Coincidence
by Pandaleski
Summary: Goten is a happy teenager. He has a family that adores him. But as new information comes to light, he finds himself unable to continue living with them. He moves into Capsule Corp, but will the pain subside or only fester and grow with time?
1. Chapter 1

OK, so this, along with my other story 'The Wrong Thing To Do' was originally posted on my other account. This has now been moved here and deleted on the other account, which OBVIOUSLY means I did not plagiarize it. This story IS a Goten/Trunks, however, this first chapter is a little…Goten/Vegeta. Please don't kill me! This was originally supposed to be a Goten/Vegeta story but it evolved into this XD I'm really not happy with this chapter, but I vowed to not change anything so there you go -smiles-

I'm really sorry to those who followed this on my last account. The move was short notice and if I could remember all your usernames I would message you and tell you about this story now and everything…so if you're reading this, the few of you that followed this through my irregular updates XD, I'm so, so sorry and I hope you decide to follow this story now that it's being reposted :)

Oh, and I edited it for spelling mistakes ^^ annnnd this will be a little OOC in my opinion. You might think otherwise though, I dunno. There will be minimal OCs and I can say this already, that by chapter 8, there are still no OCs! Cool, huh? And I HAVEN'T edited any of the actual story, just the spelling mistakes :P

Love,

Matt

(hehe, my spell check changed 'account' into accocunt XD)

Oh, and this chapter contains limey-ness.

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ._

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><p><strong>Coincidence<strong>

**Chapter 1**

I love you. Your flaming hair; defying gravity. Your tail, the mesmerizing length swishing behind your back, at times resting around your waist. They told me about the first time you came to Earth. You were with Nappa, your blue spandex tightly enveloping your whole muscular body. The short muscular legs; the strong steadfast arms resting on your chest. Your smirk… They say your brutality shone forth as you threw your partner into the air and blasted him to oblivion. I'd give anything to be Gohan, to see your strength so plainly, your cruelty, and your passion. Years have passed since then. You had a son, and my Dad had another and now I'm here and so are you. Trunks is so lucky to have you as a father. Your wife is even luckier. Even my Dad is luckier than me. I envy them all, every time they all interact with you in some way I feel the jealousy coming on. I want you. I want to be with you. But, it's too soon isn't it? Trunks is only 17 and I'm 16. I'm old enough to be your son. I'm younger than your son.

I quickly snap out of my daydream, sitting by the tree that I usually sit by as I feel an approaching ki. It's Trunks. I put the book I hadn't been reading aside and get up as he gets onto the grass.

"Hey Trunks, what's up?" I smile.

"Goten! I was just wondering if you were in the mood for a spar?" he says, bringing his fist up in front of him in determination.

We fly to a better destination as I don't feel like destroying my favorite brooding place would be such a good idea.

We finally land somewhere beyond the mountains, where there is only gravel and more rocks. I see Trunks getting into the fighting stance and a smirk appears on his face. I follow suit and soon we are at it.

Punch, punch, kick, punch.

We are equally matched.

We power up to Super Saiyan, the swishing noise emanating from the golden energy can be heard in the deafening silence of our arena.

"Brace yourself." Trunks says as he lurches forward and punches me in the chest.

I fall backwards and he lands another one on my jaw. Somehow I manage to hit back and the next thing I know I have the advantage. After 2 more hours of more or less the same thing, we decide to let our limp bodies rest on the hard ground.

"Fuuuck." Trunks groans. I laugh.

* * *

><p>As I walk into the kitchen I can smell the sweet scent of Mom's cooking and I'm left breathless as I realize.<p>

Lasagna, my favorite.

"Oh Mom, that smells gooood." I say.

I can feel her smile, no fights between Dad and her today. That's good. There hasn't really been any threats to the Earth lately and since Buu there really hasn't been much for Mom to complain about so mostly she just starts fights that are completely absurd and random.

Last night there had been a big argument over an unwashed plate. I'm so glad Mom isn't a Saiyan. She would have gone super Saiyan last night if she could. Women.

My Dad comes inside, smiling; he's in a good mood. We all sit down at the table as we see that Mom has finished cooking. It's only the three of us. Gohan lives with Videl. They now have a daughter together.

* * *

><p>The next morning I fly over to Capsule Corp to see if Trunks is in the mood for another spar.<p>

"Oh, hey Goten!" Bulma says as she welcomes me into the kitchen, "Trunks is in the Gravity Room I think."

I walk outside, the sun almost blinding me with its brightness. Today is beautiful, I think as I close my eyes and let it all in. Not seeing where I am going I walk into something, falling back in surprise.

"Watch where you're going, brat."

It's him. I can't even see his face for the silhouette the sun is causing, but I know his face is stern and he's looking at me. He's looking at me.

"What do you want?" he scowls.

His beauty is mesmerizing. I slowly adjust to the light and can see that his fierce black pools are piercing into mine.

"I just…I was looking for Trunks. Bulma – "

"That woman." he scoffs as he cuts me off, "He's not even home."

"But she – "

"Never mind what she said. The boy isn't here."

He continues staring at me.

"Well, are you going to get up or not?" his hands are still folded around his chest. A sign of royal annoyance.

I reach out my hand, "Can you give me a hand?"

"Hn."

He pulls me up and then walks away.

Dear Lord.

* * *

><p>I lie on my bed still gasping at the thought that the prince touched me today. He actually helped me off the ground. His warm rough touch, his large hand grapping mine so gently. He'd been gentle. He hadn't grabbed it hard and pulled me up, as one would expect him to do. He'd embraced the hand softly and helped me stagger up. As if I was the most fragile thing.<p>

I blushed at the thought.

Those eyes. God, those eyes, they just left a big burning hole in me. Those black pools of passion and hatred could pierce through anything. How I longed to feel the exceptional warmth that only a Saiyan could bring. No, scratch that. Only the prince could bring. God, how I want to be embraced by those bulging biceps, to be pinned to the wall, to be – no. I can't think like that.

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><p>The next day Trunks came over. We sparred all morning and then had lunch.<p>

"You know, Goten, Mom said you'd come looking for me yesterday."

"That's true." I said as I waited for Trunks to continue.

"Why didn't you wait till I got back?" he asked, while nibbling on his sandwich.

"Well, Vegeta wasn't the most welcoming yesterday." I managed to get out, making it sound unusually casual.

"Aww, don't worry about him, he's always like that."

After a long pause he continued, "Anyway, you should come over sometime so we can spar in the Gravity Room. We'll up the gravity and see who lasts the longest!" Trunks excitedly blurted out.

"You're on!"

A week later I decided to take Trunks up on the offer. I had spent all week training and I was eager to see how far I'd improved.

"Hey, Goten! Finally." Trunks grimaced. "I was beginning to think you'd chicken out!" he added.

"Ha! No way!" I said, although I had actually chickened out about coming here, but not because of the Gravity Room.

After a few more exchanges of insults we proceeded to the Gravity Chamber. Trunks punched in some things and then the door closed behind us. He continued punching in the gravity.

"We'll start with 300. Unless, that's too much for little Goten?"

"Asshole." I joked. I'd show him just how much stronger I'd gotten once he'd get in his fighting stance.

And we were off. I punched and kicked at his legs and chest, almost falling down in the process. I managed to land some fierce hits and I could see Trunks gasping for air at my newly acquired strength. In a manner of minutes he was on his knees, one hand supporting him on the floor, the other on his chest, trying to catch his breath.

"Whoa, Goten!" he said once he'd finally caught his breath.

"Too much for you?" I giggled innocently, proud at my victory, but trying to seem oblivious to it.

He seemed really shocked at my newfound strength. It made me proud. Vegeta would be proud. Maybe. I hope so. I wish he were here to see this.

"Ready to give up yet?" I teased.

At that moment Trunks leaped up from where he was kneeling and attacked. He landed a few punches, but I was quick. Trunks seemed stunned at my increase in speed too. The thought made me smirk.

Suddenly, the door opened behind us.

"Well, I didn't know I had such a _weakling_ for a son." He said in what appeared to be disgust.

After a few moments, Trunks finally spoke up.

"God Dad….he's stronger…really…" Trunks managed to get out as he bended over on the floor, trying to regain his breath.

Then Trunks collapsed.

Vegeta just stood there. Staring at his son, his arms crossed before him as always.

"God, Vegeta, we need to get him to the emergency wing!" I panicked as I tried to lift my unconscious friend up. I was finally successful as I dragged him to Capsule Corps own "hospital" with my own hands, Vegeta not seeming the least bit worried about his son's state.

It seemed that neither Bulma nor Vegeta had any senzu beans on them so Trunks would have to recover the old fashioned way.

"Goten." It was Vegeta. He stood by the entrance, leaning on the wall, as nonchalantly as ever.

I looked at him.

"Yeah?" It came out as a whisper.

I hadn't really thought about Vegeta all that much in the last week. I'd been training a lot and now with Trunks so beaten up, I'd really not had time to register the fact that Vegeta had been standing so close to me.

"Congratulations, you almost managed to kill my son." He smirked.

I couldn't tell if he felt contempt or not. It was always so hard to tell with Vegeta, he'd said it so sarcastically. Maybe it was a compliment. I blushed at the idea. He noticed the rush of blood to my face and snorted. Then he left.

* * *

><p>I came by every day after that to check on how Trunks was doing.<p>

I spent every lunch there and I would eat my sandwich while watching him sleep with all those tubes attached to his body as if some monster had tried to kill him. I hadn't realized how badly beaten he'd been until I'd brought him in here. But I knew he was going to be fine. I didn't have nearly enough power to kill him. And besides, he was the son of the Prince of all Saiyans, he would never be beaten by a _third class._

During my daily visits I always hoped that Vegeta would somehow be close to Trunks so that I had reason to speak with him again, or not even that, just to watch him or feel his presence, his ki.

Even his ki was magical. He was so stern all the time. God, I'd give anything to know how he thinks, what it is that makes him so tough, so masculine, so feminine.

God! Did I just think that? Did I just think of Vegeta as feminine? Holy fucking shit! I knew I found him sexy, but feminine? God, I'm really going crazy.

"What are you laughing about?" he scoffed as he came into the room.

How embarrassing! I must've started laughing at my weird and perverted thoughts and now Vegeta thought I was laughing at his son.

"Oh, I…uh…"

"Hn. You find it amusing that my son is so badly beaten?" he demanded, seeming angry in my ears.

"Vegeta, no! I just…" God, I must have sounded pathetic.

"Calm down boy! It was only a question." He smirked again.

He was toying with me.

I couldn't utter another word.

I completely take back calling Vegeta feminine.

There was nothing feminine about him.

He was strong, intimidating, and beautiful. Oh God, here we go again.

"What is the matter with you boy?" he was right next to me now, probably taking advantage of my constant state of reverie.

"Vegeta…"

As if he could read my mind, he smirked.

"When you're done wallowing in self pity, come join me in the Gravity Room."

As soon as he left I exhaled all the tension I'd been holding inside since he'd stepped into the room.

Nervous. Very, very nervous.

* * *

><p>As I walked into the Gravity Room all I could see was the blue spandex hugging his hips, his thighs, his gorgeous buttocks.<p>

He turned around and smirked.

"So you managed to single handedly almost kill my son." I gasped at his words and his smirk grew wider, "Impressive."

I must have looked mortified. I was stunned, shocked, no…I don't know what I was. But, mixed with my nervous feelings about being alone in a room with Vegeta, all these feelings didn't bode well. It was…weird.

"Show me." he commanded.

Huh?

"What?" I said in surprise.

"Show me your 'great strength'." He mocked.

My cheeks blushed again.

How foolish of me to think that Vegeta would admire me. How could he make me feel so embarrassed when I'd definitely done something that would be seen as admirable for a "third class", at least in his eyes?

He raised an eyebrow at my obvious indecision.

"Fine." I hissed, not wishing to stand his demeaning words any longer.

I'd show him.

I lunged for him and kicked and jabbed, aiming for his chest, his shoulders, his cheeks; anything to land a blow.

He kept blocking my every move with ease, barely making a sweat, as I started to pant in exertion.

I stopped.

I needed tactics to beat Vegeta, even if this was just a "friendly spar". Hmpf, who am I kidding? Nothing is ever friendly with Vegeta.

I backed away, lest he decide to pounce on me.

"You're fast." He remarked with a friendly smirk.

My eyes bulged.

He gave a throaty laugh.

My face contorted.

"Why are you laughing!" I almost screamed.

"Your face!" he laughed, slapping his thigh in his amusement, "It's priceless!"

He continued his chuckling, but brought it to a stop as he turned to leave.

"Oh, calm down." He stated.

I turned around, still seething, "It's not funny!"

He smiled, "Yes, it is."

He kept smiling at me like that, nothing mocking in his face.

As I noticed he wasn't making fun of me anymore, I calmed down.

My face returned to its original innocent Son grimace. I placed my hand behind my head and laughed sheepishly, the trademark Son gesture.

He scoffed at this.

"You truly are Kakarrot's boy."

I didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or not, but I smiled nonetheless.

He made a half smile, half smirk.

"Come back when you're ready to really fight. I'll be waiting."

And with that, he strolled past me out of the Gravity Chamber.

I remained there for a while. Vegeta thought I was capable of more. Had I not used my full potential? That was what he was implying wasn't it? Perhaps I hadn't. Not like I did with Trunks. Trunks would be able to land a kick on his father. So was I. I was holding back.

I shrugged, and then left the Chamber.

* * *

><p>At home, I did my homework as usual, Mom not being quite as strict on me, but still not relenting when it came to "important" things like education.<p>

I didn't mind though.

I didn't understand all of it anyway, most of it was too confusing, but I tried my best, nonetheless.

"Go~ten, dinner's ready!" my mother called through my bedroom door, a room that had once belonged to my now adult big brother.

I actually missed Gohan; he'd always been there for me. He was the father figure that I could always count on, not that I didn't love my Dad, but Gohan was Gohan and, well, Dad was…Goku. I just didn't know him that well.

I went into the kitchen, smiling in my usual fashion, quite happy to be relaxing for once. I always used to get into trouble with Trunks, but now that he was so badly hurt I didn't really get into much trouble. I enjoyed the break from the constant action.

"You look chipper, Goten," my mother stated, "did you do anything fun today?"

I shrugged. I wasn't going to tell her about "sparring" with Vegeta. It hadn't exactly been fun, all I'd felt was uncomfortable and nervous, and besides, she didn't exactly approve of fighting anyway, let alone with the prince. But I'd been giddy nonetheless. It had been exhilarating.

"No, Mom, just the usual." I smiled.

"Did you go to see Trunks?" she said before shoving a fork full of food into her mouth.

"Yeah." I said in monotone.

It wasn't exactly news. Trunks had been in that hospital bed for over a week now. He was getting better, but he was still in no shape to move around, even if he had regained consciousness. However, every time I visited him, he was always asleep, so I really didn't know how much better he'd gotten. I guess the only ones who really knew were Bulma and Vegeta. Or maybe just Bulma.

I left the table when I'd finished my dinner, my Mom insisting that I do so. I don't know why she let me leave early. Usually she found it to be "improper", but today seemed to be an exception. She was so happy. I'm glad her and Dad were doing OK.

* * *

><p>Once inside my room, I decided to finish some homework I'd been neglecting.<p>

Sure, Mom thought I was a good student, like Gohan had been, but the truth was, I wasn't nearly as genial as him. I did do my homework from time to time, but sometimes it was just too darn frustrating, not understanding some of the concepts and questions we were assigned. So a lot of the time, I just ignored doing the work. It's not like I would do a very good job at it if I did anyway.

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><p>The next day was a Monday, which meant that I had to go to school. I'd thought about skipping, and just going over to see Trunks and Vegeta, but I knew it wasn't a good idea. If I didn't attend, the school would call my Mom, and I don't know what she'd do to me if she found out how poor my grades currently were.<p>

The day seemed to drag on forever. I had friends in school, but no one as close as Trunks. Well, nobody else was Saiyan, so I really couldn't expect to relate to them in the same way. School just seemed lonelier without Trunks. Trunks was a troublemaker, but I was no innocent child either. Right about now I really wished he were here so I didn't have to listen to this teacher go on about mathematical formulas that I didn't understand anyway.

* * *

><p>After school, I went to Capsule Corp.<p>

Trunks was awake when I arrived.

"Trunks!" I hollered in fear and happiness, "Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

I almost cried on the spot.

He smiled weakly at my reaction. I guess he was still tired.

"Hah, Goten." He joked, "You're the one whose gonna be sorry once I beat your ass."

It should've come out as a snort, I suppose, but he was too damn weak and tired.

I smiled. I was glad he was OK. I don't know what I'd do if I'd lost my best friend. Probably wish him back with the Dragon Balls.

"What are you smiling at, Goten?" my friend inquired.

I grinned back, the smile almost breaking my face in half.

"I've missed you." I said.

He smiled back.

* * *

><p>I left his room when he went back to sleep. He was so tired, but I was just happy that I'd seen him awake. He looked so fragile in that hospital bed, the white of the walls illuminating his face and turning it into a sickly pallor. Poor Trunks. I'm glad there were no mirrors in that room.<p>

As I exited the dome, I paused for a minute, considering whether I should go see Vegeta.

He'd told me to come back to fight when I was ready, right? But, was I ready?

I hadn't fought with all my strength yesterday. I don't know why, but he could tell. I couldn't even tell. But, I guess because his son could beat him up pretty bad, and because I'd beaten up his son, he knew I had more strength than that. I frowned.

I took off into the sky, and flew home.

* * *

><p>Vegeta was a beautiful man.<p>

I'd thought often about life on Frieza's ship, and what being a warrior in space really entailed.

When I was younger, I'd imagined all the alien races pining for him, and declaring their undying devotion right before he blew them to smithereens. I liked the idea of people desiring the prince. He was so godly. If Planet Vegeta still existed and I lived there together with my Dad and my brother, and whatever mother I would have if my father had never met my mother, I imagined that he would be like a God to me. I don't know many Saiyans, but I can bet that none of them were as mesmerizing as Vegeta.

That night, I had a dream about the prince.

He'd been laying sprawled out for me, so delectable with his eyes closed and his mouth open. He really looked beautiful like that.

I was dumbstruck at the sight. I felt my breathing hitch, my heartbeat racing, and my body tensing up. This was just too unreal. He was so beautiful.

The fact that it was a dream didn't escape me. Vegeta wasn't the submissive type and never would be. I don't think I wanted him to be either, but this…this was something else.

But, I didn't care.

As I approached, he parted his thighs slightly, ever so slow, as if expecting me; never once opening his eyes.

I gasped at the sight. A very thin white sheet was covering his body, and with the slight movement of his limbs, it was obvious that he had nothing on underneath those sheets.

His chest was bare, revealing every crevice and sensual bump of tan skin.

His breathing was deep, as if he was asleep, but the soft groans he was making betrayed this fact.

The prince was indeed awake and he was waiting for _me_.

I narrowed the distance between us quite quickly and very gently pulled on the white sheet, making it reveal more of his godly flesh.

I reveled in his beauty.

For surely, there was no other word to describe such a person. Even Trunks had nothing on him, and he was his son.

He gasped at the cool air making contact with his skin, and I could see goose bumps slowly rise up from his otherwise flawless skin.

When he felt my hand upon his skin, his eyes fluttered open and he gazed at me, looking ever so fragile and innocent.

My hand traced over that delicate skin, warily tracing every curve of muscle on that warm thigh, tracing further along even as I got to the sheet that was still covering his length.

I was scared that he would suddenly lash out and punch me, but he never did.

He blinked a few times, before closing his eyes again; awaiting whatever touch I had to offer.

My hand slipped further and further along, feeling every bump and any heat his body could offer.

There was no doubt about the fact that he was stark naked under those sheets, a fact that seemed to only make my chilly flesh burn with more anticipation.

My fingertips traced lightly over his gorgeous length, eliciting a sharp gasp from him.

I leaned in and kissed the limp member. I placed gentle butterflies all over that beautiful manhood of his and started teasing it with my tongue as I noticed it slowly getting hard. I made sure to treat him with utmost gentleness, not wishing to taint him in any way.

He jerked his hips, craving more contact. He whimpered at my soft caresses.

When my mouth enveloped his now swollen member he moaned.

I looked up to catch a glimpse of his pleasure filled expression, and what I saw took my breath away.

His cheeks were flushed, his adam's apple bobbing as his mouth was agape, intensely enveloped by his pleasure. Had his face not revealed all this, it would be beautifully rendered to me by the orgasm inducing sounds he was making.

I sucked hard on his erection, causing him to grunt loudly, clutching the few sheets that lay beneath him. I sucked more and more demandingly, wanting to feel the salty succulence of his sweet essence, and taste it. I bobbed my head in rhythm with his increasing gasps and moans, and when he grabbed my head to try and get more of my sweet mouth, I knew I had him then and there.

He silently erupted in my mouth; the seed shooting far down my throat as he thrust deep inside me. When he relinquished his hold on my head, I tasted the drops still coating his member and dripping down my chin.

Sweet and salty.

Well, not that I'd expected anything more. It was, after all, only a dream.

I awoke with a start as I came to the realization.

I had known all along that it hadn't been real, but he'd just looked so delectable in that position.

The whole thing had been like a daze, and I had known constantly that it had only been a dream, but when I first caught sight of him, I rummaged all those reasonable thoughts to the back of my mind, if only to relish in the possibility that I might one day be that close to the Prince. Close enough to feel his warm skin beneath my fingertips.

Although I knew that the chance was slim that Vegeta would ever look at me twice, let alone have any feelings of either attachment or desire towards me, I couldn't help but _want_ him. Now more than ever.

Maybe it was just the sight of him writhing beneath me, so entranced in his pleasure, so lost in his desire that he was no longer the prince, but rather himself. A man consumed by passion; honest in his every move. That was the Vegeta I had seen and that was the person I wanted to know. Even if it _had_ only been a dream.

Even though I knew the chance was slim of ever being with him in that way, I felt elated. Perhaps it was the thought of my planned upcoming seduction, or maybe it was the dream. Either way, that dream had sparked something in me, something Saiyan. There was no turning back now. I needed this.

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><p>I know this chapter sucked but please review? I worked really hard on it (even though it sucked) and I'd love some feedback or comments or…even flames? See how open-minded I am? I even accept the haters XD<p>

Thanks you ^^


	2. Chapter 2

So this is where the story ACTUALLY begins. Tell me what you think :)

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ._

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><p><strong>Coincidence<strong>

**Chapter 2**

I never fell asleep. It was torture. Every time I could feel exhaustion taking over, my mind slowly slipping into that blackness, that foggy cloud consuming my entire frontal lobe; the image of his smirking face would penetrate that mist and cut straight through that elaborate atmosphere. I would be left awake, frustrated, despairing, and swooning over something that could never be mine.

I had to see him. I felt it so strongly. The more I knew he could never be mine, the more I wanted to see him.

It felt like a cliché, pining for his body, sweat glistening in the scorching sunlight as he stared at me longingly from behind that sinister smirk. Yes, it was all just an elaborate daydream, a fantasy, nothing more.

Ah, how cliché it was.

I walked into the kitchen and noticed my mother had set up quite a feast. There was white toast, butter, milk, and…buttermilk pancakes? The rest of the food eluded me, slowly dissipating from my peripheral vision, my favorite breakfast already presenting itself before me.

"Go ahead." I heard her voice in the distance.

It felt like a dream, my hazy sleep deprived eyes seeing stars and twinkles surrounding the fluffy pancakes. They were like clouds. Sweet, sweet clouds. My hand reached out absently and snatched a pancake from the plate, stuffing it into my mouth with apathy unheard of in the Son residence. I didn't even bother to close my mouth as I chewed in my zombie-like state.

"Goten," she screeched, "What is the matter with you?" she folded her arms across her chest and gave me a glare.

So early, yet so late.

"Srry, Mom," I spoke, the food muffling my words, "I'm jst so trad…"

"What?" she all but yelled.

"I think he said he's tired, Mom."

Everyone's eyes focused on the voice coming from the doorway.

"Gohaaan!" she rushed over, her face suddenly beaming.

He was back, finally some peace. Having Gohan around left Mom to dote over her prodigy and gave me the opportunity to do what I do best. Be left alone. I didn't exactly like it, but I was used to it by now. When I'd been but a little kid, all I'd done had been to whine for attention, but as I reached puberty that had changed. And besides, at the moment I was deadly tired, and not feeling up to anything. So right now, I was glad Gohan was here.

"Eh, little bro." he said coming up behind me, patting my head.

"Hullo, Gohan." I muffled over my pancakes.

He chuckled.

"You're still the same I see." He smiled, eyes glittering.

I nodded, eyes half-lidded in my terrible exhaustion.

"So what's new?" my brother attempted a conversation, but I was just too damn tired.

"Hmm." I replied.

"Well," my mother interjected, "Goten has a big test coming up, don't you, Goten."

I nearly choked on my food. _Fuck_, how could I forget?

"You haven't forgotten have you?" she challenged, arms as crossed as ever.

I shook my head violently to the left and right. No way in hell…

"I'm sure Goten has it all under control." My brother smiled behind me, saving me once again from a sticky situation.

I made a mental note to thank him later.

"Well, best be going." I said as I stood up from my chair, the wooden legs screeching as they scraped the floor.

I heard Mom begin to protest, muttering something under her breath about "time" and "off", but before I could defend myself or at least come up with a lie, Gohan was there, momentarily interrupting her and causing her to forget about me.

I took the opportunity and raced out the front entrance and took off into the cool mountain air.

* * *

><p>School was as predicted. I seemed to zone out the moment I entered the establishment, and I just seemed to go on without a single thought entering my mind all day. All was blank. I suppose it may have to do with my lack of sleep, but on a certain level, maybe it wasn't even that. Maybe I just missed Trunks. He'd only really been gone a week, and I'd actually skipped a few days of school, but, boy, did this thing drag out when he wasn't here. After lunch, I decided I'd had enough. I had to do something to get myself out of this rut and it seemed there was only one thing I could do about it. Go see Trunks.<p>

* * *

><p>I snuck out of the school with relative ease. There really weren't that many people in the hallways or outside for that matter. The weather had been relatively sunny all morning, but now the sky was overcast with clouds and threatening to rain. I didn't mind though, I liked the rain.<p>

* * *

><p>Once at Capsule Corp, I let myself into the large dome, slipping into the infirmary wing and seeking out my best friend's room.<p>

There he lay, cozily snuggling his pillows, his blanket up to his chin, looking like he'd been swept up by a fluffy little cloud. What I wouldn't do to be him right now.

Cerulean eyes blinked momentarily before registering my presence.

"Goteeeeeen!" he all but shrieked.

He must be excited.

"Trunks, oh man, have I missed you." I sputtered as I rushed to him, throwing my arms around him, wailing like an upset child.

"Calm down," he laughed, shrugging my embarrassing behavior off, "what's up?"

I sighed and lean back in the chair that I failed to notice was behind me all along.

"School." I stated plainly.

He started chuckling, already understanding my dilemma, as if he could read my mind, and started biting his thumbnail in a very amused way.

"What about school?" he laughed.

"You asshole," I slapped him, "It's so fucking _boring_."

"Well, it has that tendency." He shrugged.

"Ugh," I grunted, exasperated, "it fucking sucks without you, when are you coming back?" I said nonchalantly, but in fact, I was going to start crying if he didn't say it would be soon. Very, very soon.

"I don't know." He said truthfully.

He really didn't.

"But don't fret," he continued, "I'm sure I'll be back before you know it." He started smirking at what he was about to say, "And you know, it probably isn't _all _that bad without me."

"Hmm, why so?" I asked, too naive to even get his meaning.

"Oh, you know, without me to steal your spotlight, I'm sure there's _lots _you could get up to, if you know what I mean." He winked.

The bastard winked.

I picked up a pillow and threw it at him.

"Bastard!"

It's all in good fun though. He didn't mean it and I didn't either.

I know there are lots of pretty girls at our school, and boys too for that matter, but they're just too _boring._ Looking at them is fine, and admiring their stunning good looks and beauty, but if ever one of us were ever serious, I wouldn't be here, in this hospital room, with my best friend. I'd be out there fucking some ditz or…bitch…or, whatever. I don't know the right term for it.

"Rela~x," he said, waving his arms around, "I'm only joking."

"Yeah, you better be." I huffed, pouting.

"Unless," he paused, "there's someone."

He grinned at me, expectantly.

I let out a loud laugh.

"What!" I chuckled, highly amused.

"So, no?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No." I shook my head.

He shrugged.

"What about you, pretty boy," I asked after a moment of silence, "Someone come visit you in here?"

He stared at me for a moment, seemingly thinking, then began to chuckle.

"Not unless you count my Dad."

* * *

><p>I stayed there for a few hours; not wanting to come home too early for fear that my Mom might realize that I skipped school once again. It really was becoming a habit of mine.<p>

I talked with Trunks for 2 hours straight, not realizing my need to relieve myself had become so overwhelmingly strong. He'd told me a particularly funny joke involving a Priest and his father, and I, unknowingly, had laughed so hard that I didn't even notice the warm liquid seeping through my pants.

"Holy shit, Goten!" he cackled, "Did you just wet yourself!"

It was indeed a question, but came out as a statement, nonetheless, as I had indeed, wet myself.

I stood up, frantic, and tried to cover myself up with whatever object I could find in my vicinity, which wasn't much.

I'd picked up his night lamp and this set him off into another bout of hysterics.

"Haha, Goten! Don't fucking wet the lamp too, OK!" His eyes were scrunched shut, and his whole body was convulsing in fits of laughter, which didn't exactly help the reddening of my cheeks.

"Fuuuuck!" I muttered as I sprinted out of the room, leaving the purple haired prince to recover from his hysterics.

With my Saiyan speed I was rushing to the nearest bathroom, desperate to find something that could make this embarrassment go away as soon as possible, so I could quickly go back and give Trunks the thrashing of a lifetime for putting me in this situation. It was, after all, his fault.

I rushed in the direction of Bathroom B, as it was called, being the nearest washing room I could think of.

_Why does this stuff always happen to me?_

I slammed hard into something warm, but this time, I didn't fall backwards as I had done just a few weeks before.

I heard the gasp underneath me as the man angrily tried to get me off of him.

"Get off of me, you clown!" I heard him bark.

There were a variety of other curses directed at me, but the onslaught was suddenly brought to an abrupt halt, and I felt him go rigid beneath me.

"What…" his voice trailed off, not quite being able to utter whatever he wished to say, in his anger, or was it…

I was suddenly thrown off him as he seemed to regain his bearings and I looked down in horror to find that his Saiyan latex had been sullied. By none other than my own wet patch.

I gulped.

His eyes flashed what can only be described as red.

I started shaking at the pure absurdity of the situation. Anybody looking might have thought I was going to soil myself again, that is, until they realized the laughter slowly building up in my chest.

I let out a nervous cackle, much like a madman's, and continued laughing so hard I fell backwards, my eyes shut so tightly I could see stars, not really wanting to open them for fear of seeing those eyes again or stop laughing for fear that he may see the fierce trembling state my body was currently in and find me weak. Not that it would matter now anyway.

I felt a foot connect to some body part, but I couldn't tell which, and then I lost consciousness.

* * *

><p>"Go~ten, Goten, wake up!" I heard the muffled voice in the background.<p>

I guess I began to stir, because the voice only got louder and more persistent after that.

"Goten! Goten! Goten!" and I guess, when my mind couldn't stand the screeching voice anymore, I fully came to.

My eyelids fluttered open, and I felt a stabbing pain in my side, and as I looked up I could discern a distinct blur of blue, hovering above me.

"B-Bulma?" I stuttered out.

"Goten, are you OK?" her voice ached in worry.

My head throbbed painfully and my back felt stiff.

I looked around, and found that I was still lying on the floor, where the prince had knocked me out.

"Yeah." I breathed absently, confused.

She helped me get to my feet, and I swayed slightly, but then steadied myself by grabbing onto her smaller frame.

Her concerned blue eyes never left me, and it was starting to make me uncomfortable.

"Do you need to lie down?" she asked.

I shook my head, no. But, nonetheless she dragged me into one of the rooms and laid me down on the cold, white sheets, and left me there to rest for a while.

* * *

><p>When I woke up, I was surprised to find that I'd been tucked in, just as snuggly as Trunks had been when I came to visit him. I wondered how long I had slept, and my eyes unconsciously wandered over to the nightstand. There was a lamp there, similar to the one I had tried to cover my embarrassment with earlier, and I blindly searched for the switch.<p>

With a click, the area was illuminated with a golden glow. I looked around, taking in the surroundings, while searching for a clock, a watch, anything that could tell me what time it was.

_Knock._

_Knock._

The door creaked open slightly, and blue eyes peeked in.

The muffled voice whispered, "Goten, are you awake?"

There was no doubt who the figure was. The forced hush of the whisper only furthered to emphasize the demanding personality of the owner.

"Yes," I sighed, loud enough for the voice to hear, "You can come in, Trunks."

He flung the door open, and shut it tightly behind him, taking special care to do it quietly so that no one would hear.

He snuck slowly and quietly over to my bed, eyes wide and a grin plastered broadly on his face, and as he plopped down on the bed, next to me, pushing me over slightly. He sighed.

"What the _fuck_ happened to you?" he dramatically proclaimed after a moment of deafening silence, turning his head to face me, piercing my onyx eyes with his sapphire.

I shook my head, disbelieving.

"I dunno," I stared, earnest, "I just…passed out."

He raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Passed out? More liked knocked out." he paused, "What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing!" I blurted out, appalled that he should accuse me of losing consciousness.

He knew very well that my passing out had been Vegeta's doing, my bruises attesting to it, and he seemed to have already decided to take his father's side.

He sighed again, unusually somber.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" he trailed off, then laughed, "He can be that way sometimes."

He smiled to himself, then closed his eyes, his whole body relaxing as he seemed to drift into sleep.

"Trunks?"

"Mm?" he hummed, never opening his eyes.

"Are you ready to go back to school now?"

He chuckled.

* * *

><p>I woke up to chirping and was greeted with a blinding light as someone rapidly opened the blinds.<p>

"Fucking _shit_!" I blurted out in my agony.

"Language!"

It would always surprise me how adamant Bulma always was about swearing in her household and around her in general, when she was the person who'd taught us all these words and expressions in the first place. Well, her and Vegeta. They made quite a team when it came to verbal abuse.

"Sorry, Bulma." I whined, not really meaning it.

"It's OK." She smirked, not really meaning it either.

For some reason I had spent the night, in a hospital bed, nonetheless, with my best friend at my side. Or rather, underneath the covers with me. It might seem unusual for some, but Trunks and I had known each other since we were, well, since I was born, considering that he was a year older than me. So really, when Bulma found us like this she really didn't pay it any mind. She would often call it a "chemical attraction", and she and her son would laugh, obviously understanding the amusement behind it, while me, and everyone else for that matter, were left in the dark, not being as intelligent as they were.

"Goten, time for school." She called, clapping her hands to stress her point, or just to stress me; it was hard to tell.

I quickly got out of bed, failing to notice Trunks' laziness, and put on all the clothes she'd laid out for me. I swung my messenger bag over my shoulder and went to the door.

"Aren't you coming?" I called from the door to my lifeless friend.

"Nah, but you have fun." He smiled, not opening his eyes.

"What!" I hollered, disbelieving.

At that second, Bulma found it convenient to enter the room. Apparently she'd overheard our conversation, and she immediately cut in.

"Trunks needs his rest, you can come by after school if you want, though." She said as amiably as she could.

Bulma was really a nice person, but at times like these I just detested her. How dare she? It was so obvious that Trunks was fine. He was a Saiyan for God's sake, and even with beatings from Vegeta he wouldn't be in this bad shape. Either she was just naïve or he was really, really manipulative.

Not wishing to make a scene in front of his mother, I stormed out of Capsule Corp. and flew straight to school.

* * *

><p>Not only had today been boring and uneventful, it had actually been worse! I was informed that I had apparently missed the all-important test yesterday, and that my mother had also been informed of this little bit of information. I was then told I would be having detention for the rest of the week for my skipping school, and having to take this horrid test, on my break, nonetheless.<p>

As I was going through the various questions of the paper, I quickly came to the conclusion that this was some sort of entry exam for something. I figured it would be for the same College Gohan went to, although I couldn't know for sure. I didn't want to go there anyway, hell, I didn't even want to go to College at all, but I had to take this stupid test anyway, so I decided to have my try at it.

There was a perfect mixture of math, science, and social studies questions, none of them too hard for me, but none of them too easy either. Usually with these types of questions, a fairly extensive answer was due, but not really having attended most of my classes covering this, I just wrote down whatever came to mind, and left it at that. No doubt, I would fail.

* * *

><p>When school was out, I took off for my own home instead of the yellow dome I'd spent the night in. I knew my Mom would come right to Capsule Corp. if I wasn't home to explain my sudden "absence" from school the previous day, and I had no desire to be embarrassed further in front of either Vegeta or Trunks. So I just sped off, hoping for the best.<p>

* * *

><p>When I got home, she was already waiting for me, as expected.<p>

Before my feet even reached the ground she was out, throwing her hands in the air and making a sound between a shriek and yell. She had pulled her sleeves up, revealing her slender, yet very powerful, arms, as if trying to convey to me the thrashing I was in for. The sight before me could be described in no other way than Banshee-like. I was sure Gohan had never seen this side of our mother before. I smiled to myself. She was fuming.

As she approached me, I just closed my eyes, not desiring to look into those devilish eyes as she raised her fist, preparing to pound me.

And pound me she did.

It was nothing like being beaten by any of my sparring partners, but my mother was no weakling either. I would undoubtedly be left with a few bruises. She could hold her own. Not like Bulma. I was sure Vegeta must be slightly envious or at least a little angry that my Dad had managed to find someone with at least a _little_ fighting power.

In a normal family, I guess this would constitute as abuse, but not in our household. Both Gohan and I were used to her temper tantrums so when she felt the urge to "punish" us, we just let her have her way. We were Saiyans after all.

"You done?" I asked nonchalantly, and slightly defiantly.

This did not go well with my mother, who proceeded to pick up a large branch and swing it at me.

Before she could actually hit me with the thing, someone swiped it from her and she turned around to confront the culprit, whom she figured would most likely be my father, by the look on her face.

But, our eyes were met with a fuming Gohan.

"What the hell are you doing?" he screamed at her, consumed in his momentary rage.

"Gohan!" she almost stuttered.

Apparently she hadn't been expecting him to be here.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she asked, shock written all over her face.

"Were you going to hit him with this?" he shrieked, disbelieving as he waved the branch as if it were but a small twig.

Her mouth opened and moved, but did not utter any words. She was rendered speechless.

His eyes turned to me.

"Goten?" he asked, his voice softening as his eyes met mine, yet still disbelieving.

"Yeah." I sighed, rubbing my nape in the trademark Son gesture, my eyes feeling compelled to stay plastered on the floor.

His eyes flashed back to her, darkening as he focused on her trembling frame.

"Mom?" he asked again, same disbelieving yet angered tone as before.

She sprinted up to him and flung her arms across his shoulders, wailing like an abused dog.

"Oh, Gohan! I'm so sorry!" she said, feigning tears, "I just wanted…" her voice trailed off.

My brother pushed her off him and asked with an appalled expression, "You wanted to what?"

She sniffled, hiccupping as her tears were being brought to an end.

Her self-pity caused me to sigh and inwardly roll my eyes, but I still had no interest in this confrontation. I just wanted her to get this over with. Let her hand out her "punishment".

But, Gohan seemed unusually frustrated at our mother's behavior. Why was he so riled up?

"You _hit_ him?" he spat with seemingly clenched teeth, eyes widening until his eyeballs were round enough to pop out of their sockets, absolutely seething.

She fell to her knees and bent down to kiss the ground, begging him. Begging him for what?

He reached down and with his hand brought her chin up, to look him in the eyes.

And then he slapped her.

It happened so quickly that I almost didn't see it myself.

She brought her hand up to cradle her burning cheek, and if I hadn't seen it myself I would never have thought it possible.

My brother had just hit my Mom.

"Gohan, what are you doing?" I screamed, so scared, yet so angry at the same time.

He looked up at me, eyes furrowed in confusion, and then he smiled. The bastard smiled.

"It's OK, Goten." He reassured me and then went back to stare at our mother.

By this time, I was fuming.

How dare he? Mom only needed to relinquish some of her anger, blow off some steam. He knows she's like this, he knows she has a temper, so why does he go and do this? Why?

I lunged for him the moment I got close enough and I actually hit him. I hit him hard enough for him to fall over.

I heard a shriek behind me and deduced that it was my mother. I was suddenly grabbed from behind and pulled back, and the next thing I knew, I was being subsequently slapped, again, and again.

Why was she hitting me?

_Smack._

_Smack._

_Smack._

"Don't _touch_ him!" she wailed.

I didn't think it was possible for my eyes to get any wider, but seeing her do this to me really put me in a trance.

So she really doesn't hit Gohan. Huh.

"I'm gonna go now." I said in my new trance state, surprisingly monotone, as I stood up and wavered for a moment before taking off.

* * *

><p>Please review :)<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

* * *

><p><strong>Coincidence<strong>

**Chapter 3**

I arrived at Capsule Corp. in the same way I had left my own home.

_Shock. _

Pure shock.

There was no other word to describe this feeling.

_Agony._

The aching in my heart, the throbbing of my head, the veins that threatened to leap out of my body if I made a too hasty move.

I rang the doorbell.

Within a minute I heard footsteps patter to the door and I was greeted with a cheerful Bulma.

This seemed to change, however, when she noticed my expression.

"Goten, what happened?" she screeched, worriedly, almost in distress.

I just stared right in front of me, appearing catatonic, but in fact, I was not.

"Come, sit down." She motioned for me to sit down in one of the plastic chairs once she'd led me to the kitchen.

She prepared a cup of tea and placed it before me, but I didn't move to touch it.

It suddenly dawned on me how unreal this situation was. Was my life really that much of a lie? Did Mom never hit Gohan? Ever?

Was I being punished exclusively for crimes I did not know nor understand?

Surely, Gohan was a lot like me, smarter, but all the same, like me. We shared the same blood, the same father and mother. So, why was_ I_ the one to be singled out?

Gohan had made it clear that Mom's behavior was new to him, that he had clearly never been hit or punished in any way, yet I had been. All my life, I had been punished.

It wasn't the fact that the torture had gone on so long, or that it hurt, or that it didn't or that I failed to care anymore.

What mattered was that Gohan had never gone through it.

How lucky was he? How special was he to be denied this treatment? What had I done? Why couldn't Mom just accept that I wasn't as fantastic as my brother, that I wasn't Gohan, that I wasn't the 11 year old boy who had beaten Cell.

"_You should respect your brother more," she said matter of factly, "He did, after all, single handedly beat Cell."_

"_Mom, stop it." Gohan tried, cheeks reddening, the embarrassment evident._

"_When he was your age, he saved the world. Think about that next time you complain of 'unfair'."_

It was too much to bear. I needed my best friend.

"Where's Trunks?" I suddenly piped up, snapping out of my catatonic-like reverie.

"Oh," she said confused, "umm, he's up stairs. Are you sure – "

"Thanks." I interrupted as I rushed up the stairs leading to the infirmary where my best friend was still residing.

I rushed into the room without knocking, finding Vegeta sitting on the chair I'd occupied just the day before.

Apparently, I'd interrupted something.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just – "

"I was just leaving." the prince stated sternly as he stood up and walked past me out the door, shutting it diligently behind him.

Trunks' smile slowly faded as he noticed swollen, red eyes; a single tear streaming down them.

"Goten, what's wrong?" he gasped.

I hadn't cried since I was 12.

My shoulders started shaking as the sobs erupted, tears leaking down my face, blinding me momentarily as he rushed up and embraced me in a warm, tight hug.

He held me for what seemed like an eternity, until I finally broke the embrace and sat myself on his soft bed.

I buried my face in my palms, sobbing quietly to myself, too embarrassed to look my friend in the eye.

He came up beside me, and sat down on the soft mattress. He hugged me from the side, rubbing my shoulder.

"It's OK, Goten. Tell me what's wrong." He whispered.

"G-G-Go…" my voice trailed off.

He continued rubbing my shoulder and whispering comforting words in my ear, as I bawled uncontrollably.

I sniffled a few times, blinking away the tears, and looked up at him.

He was still rubbing my shoulder.

I must have looked so pitiful, eyes red and cheeks dripping wet, but he just smiled at me, the warmest smile I'd ever received from any other person, and it was enough to bring me to tears again.

"Oh, Goten, don't cry." He tried, same soothing voice comforting me.

I tried regaining my composure, but it was futile. The tears wouldn't stop.

After inhaling sharply a few more times and hiccupping slightly, I looked up at him, my lips trembling, and found that he was still smiling so softly, exuding all the kindness in the world.

At the display of such warmth, I hugged him back, tightly.

"Th-thank you for being such a good friend." I hiccupped, leaving a wet stain of tears on his t-shirt.

He hesitated for a moment, seeming shocked that I was opening up, but then returned my hug.

I couldn't help but notice how warm he felt, how his even heartbeat was subconsciously calming me, and I was safer than I had ever been. His long, strong arms made sure of that.

Like it used to be with Gohan.

"Shh…" he whispered so softly in my ear I almost didn't hear it.

I wiped all the tears out of my eyes, clearing the wetness completely, but I was left with two dripping hands.

He stood up, leaned over, and sat back down before I'd even noticed.

"Here." He said as he brought out a tissue and proceeded to dry off my hands.

"Thank you." I whispered.

I lied down in his bed, accepting the motherly gestures he was bestowing upon me, as he tucked me in and stroked my scalp as I fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p>I awoke to an empty room.<p>

It was dark, but after a while my eyes adjusted and I could see the moonlight shining in on the room, reflecting on the sharp edges of the sterile furnishings.

It was then that I noticed I wasn't alone.

The moonlight seemed to glitter on the sleeping form in a corner of the room.

There he sat, in an oddly misplaced armchair for a hospital room, breathing softly, eyes closed, and lips parted. He was asleep.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight.

He was actually quite beautiful when he wasn't swearing or fighting, or even talking for that matter.

His silky lilac locks had fallen over his face, to cover his eyes, and with every exhale, they seemed to flow and wiggle, but only slightly.

I leaned back down in the bed and took a deep breath.

That's right. The reason I was here.

I explored the possibility that I might be overreacting. That was the logical conclusion, wasn't it?

Did Mom really love Gohan_ that_ much, or…did she really…_hate_ me?

I couldn't be that bad could I?

My lower lip started to quiver again, and I unconsciously started to sniffle.

Suddenly, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, and my eyes flew open in surprise.

I hadn't even noticed.

Perhaps he wasn't asleep at all.

"Goten, what's wrong?" he said softly.

I sharply inhaled.

Why was he being _this_ nice?

After a minute had passed, and he hadn't moved, I decided to speak.

"Why are you being so…nice to me?" I asked, perhaps even softer than he had.

He chuckled.

"What do you mean?" he smiled.

No he wasn't smiling, he was grinning.

I crossed my arms, getting ready for the inevitable.

As much as I loved our playful arguments, I wasn't in the mood for one right now. I was, for the first time in my life, going to have to tell Trunks to really stop. Really, really stop.

As he noticed my eyebrows furrowing and my arms crossing, he frowned.

"What's wrong?" he said soberly, brows creasing.

"Stop _doing_ that!" I yelled, pushing away the arm that had reached up to stroke my arm.

He looked taken aback, as he put his hands in front of him, in his own defensive posture.

"What am I doing, Goten?" he asked, confused.

"Stop _laughing _at me!" I seethed, yelling, and probably waking all the members of the household.

His features suddenly softened, and his eyes took on that kind quality of the previous night.

"You think I'm laughing at you?" He asked, quietly and softly, as he started approaching the bed again, having backed up in my sudden outburst.

He sat down beside me on the bed, and looked me in the eyes, so that I could best see the honesty reflecting in his eyes.

"If you're mad because I was smiling, don't be." He said. He scrutinized his fingers before continuing, "I just thought you looked cute, that's all." He paused, presumably for effect, "Like when we were kids."

When I didn't reply, he started stroking my head, playing with loose strands of hair at random.

I observed him for a while, acknowledging that he wasn't trying to embarrass me or trick me in any way, and I leaned into his palm.

He sighed.

"You know, Goten, one of these days you're going to have to stop being so paranoid."

I knew what he meant. I always acted this way.

Ever since Dad left, for the second time, I'd been wary of trusting people.

I remember distinctly, how when I was 9, I had told my Mom exactly how I felt. After all, she'd wanted to know.

"_Goten, do you miss your father?" she asked, while doing the dishes._

"_Not really." I said flatly._

"_Oh, Goten, it's OK to miss him, we all do, don't we Gohan?" she said, in a surprisingly good mood._

"_Yup." He answered absently from the table, engrossed in grading a paper._

_I didn't reply, and instead she continued, "Someday he'll be home. Then we'll be a family again." She finished, seemingly caught up in her daydream._

"_He won't be back." I stated coldly, but my words didn't relay my thoughts._

"_Don't be sad, Goten." She said, kneeling down to stroke my cheek, "You trust me, right?" she smiled warmly._

"_No." I stated with what must have appeared as contempt, because she quickly got up and started slamming the dishes, when she finished drying them off._

"_That is no way to speak to your mother, Goten, and you know it."_

My breathing became ragged with the memory, the tears unconsciously welling up in my closed eyes.

Trunks stopped stroking my hair, and leaned back to take in my face. He placed his hand on my chin, and tilted it up to meet his eyes.

"You need to tell me what's wrong, _now_." He said serious.

* * *

><p>I didn't want to appear weak in front of my best friend, but I was too shaken up. This was hurting me more than I ever could have imagined.<p>

He was my friend and he would help me.

I kept telling myself that he wouldn't laugh at me or tell me I was weak, but as I told him what had been on my mind and what had happened, I couldn't help the fresh tears that leaked down my face. It was like clockwork now. As soon as I thought about the people I loved unconditionally, hating me or resenting me, I would go into uncontrollable fits of sadness, and the tears would come.

I hated myself for it.

"Oh, Goten, please don't cry." He pleaded, voice as soft as ever, his patience never running thin.

I sniffed loudly, trying to disguise my tears, and to eventually make myself more legible as I wasn't able to utter a single word in my current state.

"I-I'm sorry, Trunks…" I wailed, just as pathetically as my mother had done the day before, but with sincerity. I was truly, truly sorry.

"Shh, Goten, don't be sorry. You haven't done anything wrong…have you?" he asked, pulling away to look into my glassy eyes.

He still didn't know what had happened.

"OK." I sighed, finally gaining my bearings. "I'll tell you."

And so it went.

I told him how I had come home only to be faced with my angry mother, flailing about madly, and coming face to face with her fist, again, and again.

I told him how it had happened every time she was mad. Mad at Dad, Gohan, me, Vegeta, even Trunks himself. I told him how she kicked me in the stomach while she screamed obscenities and at times mentioning his name, going on about what a bad influence he was and how much he wasn't like that cursed Trunks from the future. Mirai.

I told him how it only hurt the first time she did it, how all the other times were OK, because I knew what was coming and I knew how it would feel. After a while, I didn't even feel it anymore. And soon after that, it started feeling good. I didn't take pleasure in it, of course, but I felt like I was accomplishing something by receiving her punches and kicks, and that made me feel productive. I was helping her with her rage.

But that all changed yesterday.

I recounted to him how Gohan's expression had revealed _everything_. How I knew, just by looking at him, that she'd never touched him. Ever.

I'd told Trunks occasionally that my Mom would hit me when she was mad, and he reacted in much the same way I would had he told me the same, which he had. His reaction was indifferent, considering he got pummeled often by Vegeta when he was in a foul mood or just in the mood to spar. However, his beatings were far more severe and harsh than mine ever were, but it wasn't the pain that had me in this state. It wasn't the person inflicting them either. It was just…

The realization that this wasn't normal.

I felt like I'd been lied to my whole life, and I felt betrayed. I knew Trunks would understand, so when he embraced me in another tight hug I knew he accepted it for what it was. I knew by the look on his face that he thought it was normal too, and that he was now starting to question his own relationship with his father. I felt like a boulder had been lifted off my shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." He breathed, staring wide-eyed at the sheets between us.

"Neither did I." I said, watching him.

He grabbed a fistful of the soft fabric and crunched it in his fist. His eyebrows were twisted in a beautiful arch of confusion, as he tried to process everything I'd been thinking over the past few hours.

He brought his fist up to his lips and bit hard into the flesh, then he relinquished it and stared deep into my eyes.

"What are you gonna do?" he asked quickly.

"What _should_ I do?" I was scared.

He sighed, and looked away at the door.

"They'll wake up soon." He paused, searching my eyes for answers I didn't have, "Even if she won't come, Gohan will."

I nodded, slowly.

"I'll see him."

* * *

><p>Bulma didn't come in to wake me, or to tell me to go to school that morning.<p>

Trunks never left my side.

We lied under the covers, in the same attire we'd worn the day before as we waited, waited for something to happen. Anything.

What was taking Gohan so long?

"Maybe he's not coming." He whispered in my ear as he combed some loose strands behind my ear.

I sighed.

No, he was coming all right. It was just a matter of _when_.

As we waited, he continued to stroke my hair, humming an obscure tune.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Hmm? Oh, just something someone used to sing to me along time ago." He said absently, twirling a strand of black hair around his index finger.

"Sing it for me." I breathed and he begun.

_The soldiers are coming_

_Are coming to town_

_They ask for forgiveness_

_No one around_

_The soldiers are coming_

_Are coming to town_

_They breathe in the essence _

_Of the other realm_

I sighed.

His hot breath on my ear was sending shivers down my spine.

I felt so warm. I could feel myself drift into sleep, his soft words echoing in my ear.

I turned around and buried my face in his chest as he continued to sing and play with my hair.

_The soldiers are sleeping_

_One at a time_

_They brought the fire_

_But it's burned down_

I felt my body get heavy as his strong heartbeat vibrated into my entire being. I was steadily drifting off.

Within seconds, I was asleep.

* * *

><p>I would have suspected that I hadn't slept long at all if it weren't for the booming dong of the nearby church, signaling noon, that woke me up.<p>

His fingers were still in my hair, twirling and stroking, the same pattern as before, as he breathed softly and sighed every so often.

He knew I was awake from my stirring, I was sure, but he made no sign to show for it.

He continued twirling my hair, but soon let his fingertips slip down to my scalp and started massaging it.

His fingers were divine.

He tangled his whole hands into my wild hair, putting pressure in tiny circles as he stimulated blood flow to my head.

I leaned into the touch with eagerness and involuntarily moaned softly.

I bet he was snickering up there, behind my head.

"Mmmm." I moaned, and he continued freely, working his way lower towards the nape of my neck, where most of my tension lay.

"Nghhh, right there!" I squeaked; feeling blessed to have his godly fingers delve deeper into the painful tissue. Pain I didn't even know was there.

His hands soon slipped down to my nape, completely leaving my hair and working lower to my shoulders, kneading slowly with the perfect amount of pressure.

"God, Trunks…" I gasped, moaning loudly at the touch.

He established a pattern, reaching just above my collarbone and digging his fingers in, finding that sore knot, and working it into soft tissue again, kneading more, leaving me absolutely breathless, as he worked in a similar fashion on my back, delving into the muscles and working them into loose, relaxed bundles.

_Smack!_

The door suddenly swung open, revealing a disheveled and slightly frantic, Gohan.

Trunks halted his movements and his hands quickly left my shoulders as he pushed himself off the bed, scurrying to the door.

"I'll leave you two." He said, before vacating the room.

His eyes were dull with exhaustion, his chest panting rapidly to attest to that, or perhaps to acknowledge the fact that he'd struggled to get here.

I leaned back against the wall behind me, still sitting comfortably on the bed, relishing somewhat in the warmth left behind by my best friend.

As Gohan looked to be slowly, but steadily calming down, I motioned for him to sit down somewhere. I intentionally motioned for the armchair in the corner of the room, not quite wanting him too close to me yet. It felt unnerving somehow.

Unfortunately, he decided to do just that.

He seated himself on the foot of the bed, his eyes never leaving me.

It was hard for me to look at him; he wasn't angry, and didn't display any violent movements, although I was sure he'd love to strangle _someone._

I bit my lip nervously as his stare never came to a halt. He was first to speak.

"Goten, I…" he started, but stopped once he saw me flinch. After a long pause, he said, "You think I'm going to hurt you?"

He seemed shocked.

I could feel his worry, not just by his voice, but by his ki. It frightened me to feel my brother in this way.

I shook my head violently, no.

"Then what?" he asked softly, leaning forward somewhat to catch the whisper he was sure was coming.

"I…" I started as tears leaked from my eyelashes, being too much to be contained by those few short hairs.

He gasped.

"Go...ten." he was at a loss for words.

Did I do this? Make my brother feel so uncomfortable around me? Since the moment he'd walked in, he'd been a wreck. He looked so different.

"I-I'm sorry, Gohan." I sniffled as I wiped away the tears with my palm.

From my clouded view, I could tell he was abhorred. We'd never had a talk like this before. He was truly out of his element.

"Goten…what happened yesterday?" he asked, almost shocked, but more sad than anything.

I sniffled for a while before replying.

"Y-you…she…she didn't…" I trailed off.

It was no use; I couldn't explain this to him. He wouldn't understand.

"Please tell me. I want to help." He said so sincerely. His eyes were pleading.

I shook my head, no. I returned his pleading gaze with my own pleading one. He had to understand. As my brother, my father figure, as my role model, he had to understand why I couldn't tell him.

He sighed, exasperated, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

That was it, my own brother didn't understand.

But, how could he, when I hadn't even told him anything.

He stood up, walked over to the door, and started twisting the knob.

"Wait!" I called, just in time.

He turned around, and stared expectantly at me.

"Come back." I whispered.

He sat back down on the bed and looked at me expectantly.

This shouldn't be so hard.

_Then why was it?_

He was waiting for me to speak, so I took the cue.

"She's never touched you has she?" I stated more than asked.

I already knew the answer.

"No." he averted his eyes to his fidgeting fingers.

He felt guilty.

Good.

He deserved it.

"Why?" I asked suddenly, needing to understand.

Why _me?_

He sighed sorrowfully.

"I don't know."

An eternity seemed to pass by, as he sat there, staring intently at his fingers, too uncomfortable to cast a glance at me, while I stared beyond him, at the door, feeling completely frozen in this state of total shock and despair.

Suddenly, my whole body started shaking, my shoulders rising and falling with every sharp intake of breath as I let the sobs overtake me, my body convulsing as the tears streamed down my cheeks. I wheezed as I tried to breathe. It was so hard. My air way constricted, leaving me in a panic induced frenzy as I struggled to regain my breath.

"God, Goten, what's going on!" he panicked, not having noticed my volatile movements until the sounds started escaping me.

"She….never….hit…you." I managed to choke out, before I felt my chest cave in on itself.

I was choking, choking bad; I clawed on my throat, leaving fresh marks as I tried to relieve the agony of my helplessness.

He reached forward to help me, grabbing me and trying to bring me back to the realization that I needed to actually _breathe_ for this to work.

I blacked out.

* * *

><p>Please review :)<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ._

* * *

><p><strong>Coincidence<strong>

**Chapter 4**

As I began to stir, I could hear a slight pattering approaching, and when my eyes opened, he was there.

"Gohan." I creaked out.

Must've lost my voice somewhere along the way. Must've been all that crying.

"I'm here." He said in a rushed tone that sounded oddly like panic.

I leaned back into the pillow, pushing my head into the soft fabric, attempting to hide my face in its entirety from my oddly perceptive brother. I didn't want him to see me like this, all choked up, with a running nose to match my pitiful tears. I didn't want him around anymore. I wanted to be left alone.

I knew I was sniffling loudly enough for his Saiyan ears to pick up on, but I was too distraught to stifle them. It seemed odd to me that I should be this upset over something that seemed so trifle, but yet I couldn't control the overflow of tears that kept on seeping down my cheeks, and soaking the pillow. At times like these, I really wondered if Saiyans didn't have bigger tear ducts as well.

"Goten?" the voice came from the door.

I already knew who it was.

I looked up from my pillow, my brother still hovering above me, and turned my attention to the source.

"Goten, are you OK?" he asked softly as he rushed up to the bed, hovering above me in much the same way Gohan was, except on the other side of the bed.

I wanted to be left alone. I wanted them to leave.

I started sobbing again, tears overflowing, making me unable to keep my eyes open. It didn't matter anyway; I didn't want to see their pitying faces. Least of all my brother's.

"Goten…" he tried, so soothingly, desperate to make me feel better.

_Oh, Trunks. I'm so sorry._

Why wouldn't the tears stop? I'm so pathetic.

"Maybe you should leave." The voice was stern, serious, and almost…_threatening?_

Wait. Who had said what? I couldn't tell the voices apart anymore. They seemed to mold into one soothing, caring voice, fused with defending characteristics, and to me, they almost sounded like my father.

But this was Trunks and Gohan.

I looked up to see my brother retreating out into the hallway, while Trunks stared down at me with concerned, glistening eyes, almost as if he were about to shed tears himself. His expression was pained, and he was eyeing me closely. Was he afraid that I had hurt myself, or worse, that my brother had?

"Trunks…" I managed to squeak out, my voice still failing me to some extent, "what's going on?"

"Shh," he whispered soothingly, running slender fingers through my disheveled hair, "It's OK. He's gone now."

He had really kicked Gohan out.

I wanted so badly for this all to be over, for it all never to have happened in the first place. But, that would be a lie, because that would mean that I would still believe myself to be worthy. Worthy of someone's love. No, it was a good thing this happened. It had to.

"Goten?" he said almost in a panic.

"Wh-wha?" I said in utter confusion.

What was wrong with these people?

"You're heart is beating really _loud_." He said, eyes wide, still obviously concerned for my wellbeing.

I closed my mouth and inhaled deeply through my nose. _Deep breath in, deep breath out, deep breath in, deep breath out,_ just like they'd taught us in school. Remarkably, it had been one of the few times I'd actually paid attention in class.

As I slowly began to breathe normally, Trunks visibly relaxed and actually smiled. I was used to Trunks smiling all the time, and in fact, he smiled in that same carefree way everyday, but somehow I missed the comfort it would bring to see his lips turn up like that, smoothing out the thin pink flesh of any creases, and brightening up any mood I might currently find myself in.

I smiled.

This only deepened his own smile, forming an oddly displaced grin. Almost as if he was trying to out smile me.

Without saying anything, he climbed into the bed and lay next to me, slipping his slender, yet toned, arm behind my neck and bringing me closer into a warm embrace, almost resembling a hug. He smiled contently once he felt me relax and lean my face on his chest.

His breathing was deep and strong, and I felt his heartbeat through his chest, the soft thump creating an almost instant response in my own body, deeply relaxing me before I could even begin to start thinking again. Trunks felt so warm, it was always so safe with him, and now was no exception. It was just the way he was. Always saving the day, just like his future counterpart had supposedly done as well, but that never crossed my mind. This Trunks was the only real Trunks, and anyone who thought differently should be shot. They should be thankful they had such a great person in their world and stop worrying about that damned Mirai. I had certainly had enough of him already, and I had never met him. Perhaps it was the thought that my Mom always mentioned him when she was dealing out punishments, or perhaps it was the way she scolded _this_ Trunks, _my_ Trunks, in the same breath.

I sighed.

"I love you, Trunks." I mumbled into his chest.

"I love you too, Goten."

* * *

><p>It had startled me how much had gone on in only two short weeks.<p>

Here I was lying with my best friend, who I'd almost killed and who I'd visited everyday, waiting for him to get better, and now, here he was, comforting me in my misery. I felt so bad. Why was it that he always seemed to be such a godsend, and I always seemed to come across as some sort of hell child? Well, at least in my mind, that is. It had used to be different, when we were kids. He'd be blamed for almost everything, and to an extent he still was, but I found myself feeling more to blame for a lot of things lately.

For one, I was having thoughts about his father. Uncouth thoughts. Up until now, it had never sickened me. Now I just felt repulsed to a degree that seemed to haunt me daily. I was disgusting.

I had to block those thoughts out completely. The past few days had been miserable and completely draining for me, and suddenly I just wanted to forget everything from my past. I wasn't the same person anymore. Suddenly I felt so unwanted, so unclean.

* * *

><p>On the morning that Gohan left Capsule Corp, Trunks had insisted I stay, if only for a few days, to work out "certain things" as he'd put it. I got my own room, and it was big and spacious, not like Gohan's old room, my room at home, but it was nice nonetheless.<p>

The first few days were uneventful; I spent my entire days sleeping, and only woke when the sun had already set, and the evening lights had already started to shine. That thought alone made me feel even guiltier. Wasting away the days. Days I used to enjoy with my entire being. The first night I had spent in my own room, I had done nothing but cry and occasionally think about what I wanted, or needed. What I needed was a place to stay. This was no home, even if I'd gladly call it my "second home", but a second home couldn't exist without one to begin with. I was sure it was some law of physics, but I don't dare dwell on it too much for fear of feeling stupid. I already felt bad enough, I didn't need another reason to hate myself.

The first night had been lonelier than I had thought it would be. The whole dome had been dark, and dead silent except for the soft drone of various machines. My mind had started to wander, and I had found myself replaying the events of that day. In hindsight, it seemed awful, as if it was a complete miracle that I had survived it to begin with, but in reality it wasn't at all that bad. Sure, I was crying over it, and I was feeling sorry for myself beyond what I should, but it really wasn't as bad as I put it up to be. Even though I'd come to this conclusion, I couldn't stop the tears from falling. It was like this needed to happen, this pain needed to be felt, if only for the experience. My body knew I was in denial. Masking things only seemed to make it worse.

With my great luck, I had fallen asleep before anyone got up and had woken right up once they'd all gone to bed.

I didn't quite know if Trunks had gone back to school yet. When I had tried to coax him into it – was it last week? – Bulma had been adamant to not let him go, but with recent events replaying in my mind of him taking care of me, I figured Bulma had let him return to his normal activities seeing as he was more than capable of taking care of himself as he was able to nurture me. That's why it surprised me when my door suddenly creaked open, and a blur of purple and blue peeked in.

"Can I come in?" he whispered, probably not to wake the others, but there really was no need. I was at the opposite end of Capsule Corp, and the only one who might faintly hear us would be Vegeta, and to be honest, I don't think he cared.

"Yeah, sure." I said, slightly confused.

I'd been reading when he came in, the faint glow of the night light illuminating just enough for me to be able to make out the atrociously boring words of the atrociously boring book I'd found in one of the bookshelves. Thank God he'd come.

He closed the door behind him in much the same way a thief would have and he tiptoed to the bed, even though it wasn't necessary.

"Whatcha doin'?" he whispered.

I put down the book and sighed.

"Just reading this crock of shit." I said as I pointed at it.

He laughed.

"Why the hell are you reading Wittgenstein?" he snorted, and then shook with laughter at my expression.

"Because I'm fucking bored, and I can't fucking sleep!" I meant to sound angry, but I did sound silly, something I only realized too late. "Why are you up this late anyway?" I eyed him.

He shrugged.

"I'm just bored, I guess." He looked around the room, inspecting the empty walls, "That and I can't sleep."

He looked at me as he finished talking, and I thought I detected a glint of concern in those sparkling blue eyes, but before I could analyze it further, or even begin to think, he lifted the covers and snuck under them.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" he whispered softly.

I smiled weakly, I was tired too, but I doubted very much if I'd be able to sleep, even with him in the room.

"OK."

"Great!" he beamed, as I slid down beneath the covers, having propped myself up on my elbows as he entered the room, "It can be just like old times." He whispered before sliding his hand around my waist and pulling my back to his torso.

He was upset, I could tell.

After a few minutes of silence, having listened to his exasperated sighs for long enough and almost letting them get the better of me I spoke.

"Is everything OK?" I said it softly, and very carefully so as not to upset him.

I heard him shuffle a bit behind me, before replying.

"Yeah, I'm OK."

I would leave it at that. I was just happy to have some company, even if it was an upset Trunks.

* * *

><p>Throughout the course of the night, Trunks had flailed about wildly, deep in a dream or nightmare; it was hard to tell. I'd been punched, and kicked in so many places that I had bruises decorating the area around my shoulder blade to the tender flesh at the back of my knee. I must have had bruises on my stomach as well, from the sheer force with which Trunks had squeezed and dug his fingers into my abdomen, mumbling something incoherent in a ghastly tone. However much it had hurt, I hadn't fought back. I actually missed the pain Mom used to cause me, I missed feeling helpful, like I was doing good. I felt like I was helping Trunks by suffering through it all. It was the first time I'd felt good since that day when Gohan had come and ruined everything. Or saved me. It's too much to go into.<p>

As the morning hours approached, and Trunks had settled down, I pondered once again what I should do with my life. As odd as it may sound, what happened really helped me put things into perspective and question my past actions. I really didn't want to end up like my Dad, and I most definitely didn't want to end up like Gohan. I didn't want the nagging wench of a wife that both my father and brother had to endure daily, and for what? What could possibly be worth suffering through that torment? Maybe Gohan got a bit more action than Dad, but I still had a hard time believing that they enjoyed that kind of treatment, or company for that matter. I still don't know what I want, but I know what I don't want. I don't want to suffer for the rest of my life and be at someone else's mercy.

Somewhere along the way, when my thoughts had got the best of me and had started wandering around on their own, my eyes had slowly drifted off to somewhere more peaceful and that's when I felt him stir behind me. It did indeed wake me up as I hadn't completely fallen asleep yet, still on the border between dream and reality, the point where the two seemed to mesh to form an odd alliance of sorts. It was still early when he hugged me closer, seeking my warmth, throwing a leg over my thigh and pulling me even closer with the strength of his calf. His heartbeat was as calm as ever, but I knew he was slowly regaining consciousness. I heard him smack his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a suckling gesture, or perhaps out of dryness, and then I felt him nuzzle my neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in as much of my scent as he could take and then he murmured in my ear.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He mumbled groggily.

He was still drowsy, and I wondered if he even knew where he was.

The hand that had lingered around my waist all night, slid down to the hem of my shirt and slid under and smoothed up in one fluid motion, feeling my abs and pecs along the way, to rest at my shoulder, in a sideway hug of sorts. This was usual morning Trunks behavior. He'd told me once that he liked to feel the warmth of another as he woke, and Saiyans in particular, seeing as they naturally held a higher body temperature. I believed him. I felt the same at times, except, for me, it only happened at night, whilst for Trunks it was usually in the morning. I wondered if all Saiyans were like that, and if humans were as well.

He liked to smell me. It had always been something we did when we slept over at each others' houses. The full bloods, we had agreed, smelled like mushrooms and salvia, while humans had something reminiscent of honeydew. We, however, as we had noticed, had something in between, a scent much different than either species altogether. To me, Trunks had always smelled like cranberries. It was a rich smell, and I sometimes felt like I would pass out if I had too much of it. It was intoxicating. He's never told me what I smell of, but I don't think it's very different from his own scent. Something I do know, however, is that my smell is very alluring to him, and very refreshing, yet soothing at the same time. He likes it. If I were in Trunks position, and he were in mine, I would probably do the same. That's why, when he suddenly slid his tongue out and started sucking on my neck I wasn't in the least surprised. Again, normal behavior for us.

"Mmm." He half moaned, half breathed.

I sighed. His tongue always felt so warm, and so wet. It wasn't often that he did this.

He trailed his tongue along the hairline of my nape, and then when he came to my ear, he nipped on my earlobe, and giggled in my ear.

"Quit fucking around, Trunks. Let me fucking sleep." I whined, coming off as more annoyed than I was, but knowing him, it wouldn't be a problem.

I could feel him pout behind me, his lips still pressed to my neck, slightly below my ear.

"But I'm booored." He complained; sounding just the spoiled child he really was inside.

I chuckled.

Trunks was skipping school today, I knew it.

I suddenly turned my head around, to see what kind of smirk he was bestowing upon me today.

There it was. The mischievous, infamous Trunks grin, together with glinting cobalt eyes, not betraying a single thought he was having. Well, other than not be up to any good, that is.

I scoffed at the sight, and rolled my eyes.

He was always so goddamn confident. Even as I laughed at him, and snorted, and even rolled my eyes, his grin never wavered and his eyes never left mine. I don't think he even moved, and if his fingers hadn't currently been around my waist again, squeezing lightly, I wouldn't have thought he'd moved a muscle.

"Let's go." He said, and before I knew it, he'd gotten out of bed, fully dressed as he'd been when he came into my room last night, and was dragging me out.

"What? Where are we going?" I asked wearily.

He grinned again, and ignoring me, he pulled out some clothes out of my neglected suitcase and threw them at me.

"Get dressed. We have work to do."

He left me staring like an idiot at his retreating form, while he went into the bathroom to comb through his already neat set of locks. When he deemed his look appropriate he returned, and upon seeing me dressed, yet slightly disheveled, he shrugged and went out the door, with me following like a lost puppy.

* * *

><p>"Trunks, what is this place?" I asked him, with what can only be described as extreme open-mouthed awe.<p>

He chuckled in that way of his that is often mistaken as smug by teachers, but in reality is nothing more than amusement.

The scenery really was magnificent. It had taken us little less than 45 minutes to reach here, flying and everything, and as soon as we landed I knew he had taken me some place special.

There were flowers everywhere. Pink, pink, pink all the way the eye could see. From the air it had seemed like the grass was tinged pink, or at least some kind of red, but now it was obvious; tiny pink flowers littered the whole landscape and even as they were stepped on they seemed to bounce back up with just as much vigor as if they'd never been touched at all. There seemed to be nothing in the distance except pinkness, or perhaps there was, but if that was the case I couldn't see it.

"This, Goten," he said, spreading his arms around the scene as if introducing me to his home for the first time, "is my sanctuary."

No kidding.

He was proud as fuck and he should be. Fucking Trunks the Explorer. Finding a place like this. Damn.

"How'd you find this place?" I asked, trying to suppress my awe.

He snickered. The bastard knew me too well.

"Well, actually, I used to come here all the time." He spoke, as if reminiscing of better times; entranced in his apparently blissful memories.

Yeah, I sure know what that feels like.

"Oh," I answered, trying not to sound too…what? God, it's useless to hide my emotions from him anyway. I can't even tell what I'm feeling. I'll just let him decide, "So when did you start coming here?

He snapped out of his trance, stealing a glance in my direction, and shrugged.

"A few years ago." he said nonchalantly, "Actually my Dad showed me this place."

Vegeta? This place?

Of course. Dad used to tell me all the time how much he _loved_ the color pink. Always mentioning that "pink shirt", although none of us had ever really seen it. All jokes aside, it felt odd seeing Trunks like this. As if…he was…sad. Of course it could happen, and it did, but seeing Trunks with emotions that I had personally grown so accustomed to feeling made me feel extremely uncomfortable and out of my element. Trunks was my anchor.

I didn't respond. I knew whatever I said would come out sounding disappointed. I wasn't though. The thing was just that Trunks had never told me about this and I really didn't know much about Vegeta and his' relationship at all. I didn't know how close they were. I didn't know Vegeta brought him here.

"So, what's the verdict?" he said, snapping me out of my forlorn thoughts.

I nodded, pursing my lips, and taking in the area.

"It's nice."

"You know, it's been a while since we did something like this." He says as he stares off into the pink distance.

* * *

><p>The sun sits high and mighty in the deep blue sky, sending heated rays to descend on our warm bodies, while we sit on the pink ground.<p>

We'd been sitting there for almost an hour, not a word passing between us as we played with the flowers sprawled out all around us, at times plucking a random blossom from the ground and twirling it between our fingers. It was peaceful. There was no Chi-chi screaming, no Bulma complaining, no Gohan sending pitied looks, and certainly no Vegeta that could possibly send me into an endless bout of despair out of the sheer embarrassment I seemed to always find myself in when around him. This was nice, and I was going to enjoy it.

I lied back in the grass, (or bed of flowers), and closed my eyes, resting my head on my folded arms behind my head. I again found my thoughts drifting to Planet Vegeta and the life such a planet must have brought. Was it warmer there? I'd heard Dad mentioning it once or twice, and pinpointing the reason Vegeta's skin was the shade it was to just that reason. I'd always loved how tan he was, and often found myself wondering if all the other Saiyans were as dark. Trunks had always had a slightly darker hue than me, but still nothing in comparison to the prince.

During these past few gruesome days, I hadn't seen much of Vegeta. I hadn't seen him at all since I barged in on him and Trunks talking. I don't know what they were talking about, but then again I was so sad when I'd arrived that I didn't even bother to think it over. I suppose Trunks' mood since that day had deteriorated slightly, being more sad and reflective, but it was hard to tell. When we weren't in school, Trunks was very different. His moods would alternate between completely happy and undeniably irritated to such extremes as complete melancholia. It wasn't any different now, really. It was probably my fault anyway. I hear depression is contagious.

I opened my eyes for a moment, squinting as the sunlight seemed to blind me, and bringing up a hand to shield my eyes from that same sunlight.

Trunks was sitting in an upright position, petting the flowers, and mumbling something inaudible to himself. In this light he looked so regal, with an air of pained sadness, as his lilac strands flew about behind him. It was nice. It was nice to watch him so serene for once. Even if he had an air of mischief about him almost constantly, somehow this moment seemed like the real Trunks. Like he wasn't putting on a mask. I smiled.

He chose that moment to look up. My eyes met his sparkling blue orbs, and for a moment, even if it was just a fraction of a second, I could see the purity in those eyes. There was no sadness there. He was content. It must be this place.

He smiled back.

"What?" he asked, smile still in place.

I shook my head, slightly embarrassed that I'd been caught staring, but oddly didn't feel very uncomfortably. I never did with him. He was always so accepting. I started grinning like a madman.

At this he quirked his head to the side, a questioning gesture.

"Thanks for being such a great friend." I chuckled. Somehow I found that funny. And it was, albeit slightly sad too. My best friend was the only one who had really ever accepted me, and I was oddly content with that. Being here. With him. I felt OK. "So what are we doing here?" I asked, after a moment of silence had elapsed.

He straightened up more, having slouched slightly as I'd talked to him. I recalled how he'd dragged me out of bed earlier on and I could distinctly remember him telling me that we had _"work"_ to do.

He smiled lightly and then got up, brushing off his knees as he came to his full height.

He walked up to me, taking hold of my hand, and pulled me to my feet. With his hand still in mind he dragged me over more pinkness, and by his jovial tugs on my arm, I could tell he was grinning.

"I want to show you something." He said over his shoulder, picking up speed.

* * *

><p>Please review?<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews :) I didn't think I'd get any for this so yay ^^ -hugs reviewers-

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ._

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><p><strong>Coincidence<strong>

**Chapter 5**

He drags me to a clearing. There is green replacing the pink now, and I can hear a stream in the distance. Yes, it's water. Definitely water.

I look around, taking in my surroundings until my eyes lock on…a house? That is most certainly a house in the distance.

"Wha – " I start to question, but he cuts me off.

"This is our camping place." He answers my unasked question.

"You camp?" I ask incredulously after a moment of silence, in which I realized he wasn't going to elaborate.

He chuckles, still facing the house, "Yeah. Yeah, we do." he says with a smile, a content one at that.

"We?" I almost scream. I feel so shocked not knowing, or even predicting, a house in the middle of the woods, or island, or whatever we're on, that the fact that it belongs to none other than Trunks kind of frightens me.

He chuckles more as he nods.

"Yeah," he turns to pierce me with those eyes again, "well, we built it a few years ago. For camping. But we don't really camp that much, though." He said chewing his index finger in contemplation, perhaps trying to decide whether to tell me more?

"I didn't know you like camping." I remark, feeling quite hurt that I didn't know this fact about my best friend. I prided myself in knowing him the best, and him in knowing me, and I don't even know this simple fact. I realize too late that my remark comes out sounding angry, but he doesn't seem to notice, or care.

He's not smiling anymore; rather he looks contemplative again, still chewing on his index finger. His eyes are focused on the ground, alerting me to the fact that he is deep in thought.

"I don't, it's just…" he starts, pauses for a bit, then continues, "Mom wanted us out of the house…for a while. Sometimes." His words come out sounding fragmented to me, but I don't mind. I'm pretty curious as to why Vegeta would go through the humiliation of "camping".

"Sometimes?" I ask cautiously. Maybe it's a touchy subject?

"Um…" he snaps out of his nostalgic trip to look up at me, his eyes gazing into mine once again, this time keeping eye contact throughout, "Yeah, Mom wanted us to go 'camping'" he gesticulated with his fingers, "so we came here."

Just like that.

"So you just…built a house?" I ask incredulously. I must sound like a total douche.

He starts grinning, his eyes squinting in his amusement as he kicks his leg out to scrape the ground with his foot.

He chuckles, "Yeah, I guess we did." He pauses, then continues, "Well, I guess it isn't exactly like _that,_" he emphasizes, "we just built it because we figured we would come here often enough." After a moment he adds, "And we don't like camping." He winks at me.

He winks to take off the edge. He can feel the tension. It's me, all me. I'm jealous and he can feel it.

God, you're such a godsend, Trunks. Always the one fixing and piecing things together again. If it weren't for you I don't know where I'd be right now. But, that doesn't change things. The fact still remains that I didn't know this about you. That I didn't know you went "camping" here. I still don't know what you did in this house. I still don't know what the house looks like, and I still don't know…

"Did you build it yourselves?" I suddenly ask, too curious to resist.

He smiles as he leans back, "Ma~ybe." His smile turns into a full-blown grin.

Yes, he built this house himself. I didn't know that.

I'm a terrible friend.

I think he notices my fallen face because he comes up and embraces me. He's warm.

"Aww, Goten, what's wrong?" he asks me, leaning back to look into my face, trying to discern my present emotion.

Why do you even need to ask? Seriously Trunks, you can detect the slightest change in my demeanor, but you can't tell _why_ I'm feeling this way?

I shrug, "Really, I'm OK."

I know I'm not very convincing.

He furrows his eyebrows, "Are you thinking about your Mom again?" he asks with sincere concern.

I smile a little. He's so caring.

"Yeah…" I say hesitantly. I can tell he knows something's off. I've never been a good liar, but…

"Hey!" he says suddenly perking up, squeezing my shoulder, "We should go inside! I want to show you my handiwork." He smiles.

I smile too. It's really hard not to. It's infectious.

We walk side by side towards the house; him hugging my shoulder and squeezing it as he walks. He smiles at me. I can tell he's happy. I wish I could be happy too.

He opens the door. I'm kind of surprised to find that it isn't locked, but after all, there are no signs of life here, and Trunks and Vegeta are Saiyans. They could probably track down who broke in anyway. If anyone dared.

He proudly shows me the interior. The house he built by himself. I find myself wondering how much of it is actually Vegeta's work, but I don't ask. I know it wouldn't hint to him that his father intrigues me, but I feel nervous about the whole idea anyway. He looks so proud; I don't want to ruin it.

The place looks just like another Capsule house. I'm assuming, as I look at it, that that is why they know how to build something like this. Trunks is a Briefs, after all. Of course Bulma would have taught him something like this. I'm actually quite proud to say that my friend is a genius. Unlike myself.

"…so we just kinda built it." He shrugs. I don't pay attention much to what he has to say. I really should, but he's just telling me about building the kitchen and what materials he used. I don't care much for that stuff anyway.

"So, what do you think?" he asks me as he twirls around like a giddy girlfriend, or child; Trunks really could be considered both….sometimes.

"It's nice." I nod sheepishly. I realize I don't sound very enthusiastic, but he understands. He always does.

He suddenly sobers up, staring into my eyes the same way he did just minutes ago outside.

"I think we should talk."

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><p>I didn't feel like talking to him, but I knew it was inevitable. When Trunks wants something, he gets it. And now he wanted me to tell him everything. <em>Everything.<em>

"I came home as usual, and there she was." I started.

We were sitting in his makeshift bedroom, on his makeshift bed, as I tried to recount in detail what had occurred that night, or afternoon, to Trunks. Nothing had been said as we climbed the stairs to the second floor where his and Vegeta's bedrooms were located. Yes, they had separate bedrooms, I found to my pleasure, but that wasn't the point. We sat down on the bed in silence until I broke the ice.

I continued, "She was already outside when I landed. She approached me yelling, but I can't remember what she said. It's usually the same anyway, but I wasn't scared. I never am. I was actually happy when the first punch connected. I felt happy for the contact. Then another and another and another landed." I paused, maybe for effect or just to ponder, "Then I remember saying something like 'are you done' and I think it came out more defiantly than intended. She was seething. She somehow found a branch or other that she picked up and swung at me, but it never connected. I'd closed my eyes when I saw what she was holding, but I opened them again when the hit never came." I sighed.

"So then what happened?" he almost whispered.

I sighed heavily.

"Then he was there. Gohan. He stopped her." I stopped to look him in the eyes. His eyes held concern and…empathy. Trunks always felt empathy. That is why I loved him.

"He stopped her." He stated. It wasn't a question.

I nodded.

"He was confused at first, and couldn't seem to understand why she was swinging the branch at me. I think he was in denial." I paused, now feeling more sad than ever. "At first I was happy to see him. Gohan. It hadn't been a long time since I last saw him, but I love my brother. But, then I saw that he was confused. His eyes screamed, 'why is she hurting you, Goten?' and that's when I realized. No – wait, no. That's not when I realized. When he started yelling at her and then hit her, I realized. She never laid a finger on him."

It was silent as we processed the information.

Going through it again was painful, but I had to. I told Trunks everything, and he did the same. This was all part of our relationship. He would help me, but he had to know why I was hurting. However, when I looked over at him, I saw he was crying.

"Trunks? Trunks! Are you OK?" I almost screamed, frantic that he was crying. Trunks never cries. What is this? What is going on?

He wipes away a tear with his palm as he answered with a sniffle, "Oh, nothing. I'm just…surprised."

Yeah, I remember it all too well.

We sighed in unison, and then he turned to me and hugged me. I was surprised. I never expected him to feel this much empathy for me, to sympathize to this degree, to the degree that he would shed tears on my behalf. I almost felt honored. I smiled.

"Thank you." I whispered, sniffling a bit myself.

"For what?" he sniffled back.

"For crying."

He smiled.

We sat there in silence until the sun started to set. We had to get home soon.

"Hey, wanna watch the sunset?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Why not."

We went out and walked over in the direction of the water. I could hear the splashing getting louder and louder as we approached. I guess that was the intended destination.

There was indeed a lake or river of some kind up ahead. I noticed a rock of some kind and I noticed that we were heading straight for it. When we reached it he sat upon it and made room for me. Seems I was right. We do think alike it seems. I smiled at the thought.

"What are _you_ smiling about?" he joked.

Ah, I miss asshole Trunks. I miss all of him really. I don't know what's wrong with me lately, but I just miss being around people. People that matter. Like Trunks. And my brother. I miss Gohan. A lot. But I can't see him. Sadly.

"Just thinking." I shrug. I really don't feel like elaborating.

"Fair enough." He says, as if reading my mind.

I smiled, and he smiles back.

He points at the sunset.

"Me and Dad used to come here during the day. I would catch the odd fish, since he doesn't like getting wet. We would make our dinner right there." He said and pointed to a pot adorned with ashes and stones.

"You can catch fish?" I asked incredulously. What was this? Discover-how-much-I-don't-know-about-Trunks day?

He chuckled, "Yeah. I've had practice."

Yeah, no kidding. He must've come here often.

"So how often do you come here?" I asked out of curiosity.

He answered as he stared into the setting sun, "Not that often. Maybe a total of 5-6 times." He shrugged, "I lost count."

"Oh." I sighed.

"But, I haven't been here for years. Last time I was 12."

I looked perplexed, because I was. It was that long ago? How did I not know this?

"Hey, Trunks," I start apprehensively, "Umm…how old were you when you and Vegeta – "

"Started coming here? Hmm…" he cuts me off, "I think I was about 9? Why?" he asks innocently.

"Oh. Umm…no reason." I try to hide my growing sense of betrayal. I don't know why it hurts so much to know that Trunks kept this from me. It seems like it was a big part of him growing up. Something I wasn't a part of. I feel jealous of Vegeta.

"Goten, what's wrong?" he whines, and I know he's sick of seeing me so forlorn.

I sigh, "Don't worry about it." I don't want him annoyed at me so I try plastering a cheery 'Son smile' on my face, but he sees through it.

"Really, Goten. I'm worried. It's not about Gohan again is it?"

Ah, so he does understand. He understands why it hurts so much. I want to smile, but I can't. I still feel the growing sense of betrayal in my heart. I'm jealous and there's nothing I can do to mask that feeling.

"No." I shake my head, "It's…" I can't just out and say it. I'm not like him. I can't just say what's on my mind. I'm like Gohan with that. I guess in that sense I'm more reserved but…

"Is it…this place?" he asks warily. God, he's perceptive.

I smile, "something like that."

He slumps his shoulders and sighs exasperated.

"You know, I thought bringing you here would make you feel better, I didn't mean – "

"It's not like that Trunks!" I interrupt hastily, afraid to hurt his feelings. "It's just…this place is yours…and Vegeta's…"

He looks confused. Utterly and hopelessly confused. Then realization seems to hit. He straightens up a bit and makes a surprised sound.

"You're not….imposing…if that's what you're worried about?" he asks tentatively. He's still unsure about his conclusion.

I shake my head violently, "No, no! It's not like that at all!" God, sometimes I just wish he could read my mind. I wish he would just understand that I feel sad that he never told me about this.

"Why didn't you…" I start, embarrassed to even continue my 'confession', "tell me you had a…camping place." I try again very hesitantly. I'm scared he'll laugh at me.

His eyes soften, and confusion sets in again. He looks hurt, as if he doesn't understand my hurt, because he doesn't. He wants to understand. Trunks not understanding is a fearful Trunks.

"Why…?" he starts, not really knowing how to phrase it.

"I mean…I didn't know." I whisper.

"Didn't know what?" he asks.

He's still as confused as when we started.

"I didn't know you went camping." I finally say.

He gasps. I think he understands.

"I'm sorry." He says after a long, pregnant pause.

I look at him, waiting for him to explain. Why. Tell me why. But he doesn't. I shouldn't feel so bad. He should be able to keep things to himself if he wants. But I feel as if he's pushing me away. Or pushed? He showed me this place today, didn't he?

"So, why did you bring me here?" I ask, still with a whisper.

He looks at me, and I can see the corners of his lips edging up into a small smile.

"Because you needed it."

I smile back, but I still feel insecure.

* * *

><p>Once back at Capsule Corp I retire to my room. I'm not really hungry even though my last meal was lunch, and that was hours ago. I had a fun day with Trunks and I'm sure Bulma is yelling at him now for skipping school. Turns out he really had gone to school all these past few days when I'd been sleeping during the day. It kind of made me feel special that Trunks would skip a day just for me. I smiled to myself. I wonder if he feels the same when I skip school for him. Probably not. I mean I do it all the time for him when we're actually in school. He always initiates it. Not that I care anyway.<p>

I lay on my bed facing the ceiling. I turned off the lights so the room is pitch black and I can barely see anything. I guess us half-breeds don't have nearly as good senses as Vegeta and my Dad. Well, whatever.

I ponder the day I just had, what I'm going to do. Being with Trunks today was great, but I really miss him. Gohan. Talking about him again I realize I miss him. I don't really blame him for what he did, I know now it was the right thing to do. But, I don't know if I can call him. Can I? What would I say? Would he forgive me? I still feel like he's the one that owes me something. I haven't even talked to or seen him since Trunks kicked him out. Maybe I should go visit him?

Just then, there's a knock on the door.

"Yes?" I call out, still staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, it's me." he yells in a hushed voice. I'm almost certain that if Bulma were in the next room she would hear, but thankfully she's not. She can be quite the handful at times.

"What's up?" I ask, sitting up on the bed and facing all my attention towards him.

"Oh, nothing." he shrugs as he kicks the door closed with the heel of his foot. His hands seem preoccupied.

It's quite hard to tell in the dark so I turn the switch on the light. When the light illuminates the room I can see that he's carrying a tray.

"Really, Trunks." I ask with a raised eyebrow, slightly mocking, "Dinner in bed?"

He shrugs, "What can I say?" he says jokingly, "I'm quite the nurse."

I chuckle. That he is.

He places the tray on the foot of the bed and I crawl over to it to see what it is. As I hover over the contents I see there is soup.

The perfect sick food.

He notices my disappointment.

"Eh, what can I say?" he shrugs sheepishly, "Mom says you're sick."

I sigh, but pick up the spoon anyway. I'm kind of hungry.

As I eat, he takes a seat on the bed and watches me.

"You know," he speaks after a while, "I thought about what you said today."

"Hmm?" I mumble over the food.

"Yeah," he continues, "I didn't tell you about the house because I didn't think it was important at the time." He pauses again.

I listen intently, but try to appear casual as I take in every single word, trying not to feel injured in any way by the information.

"When I was a kid, it was special, you know. Me and Dad. I thought you'd try to come." He paused as his eyes locked with mine, blue gaze meeting onyx. "I'm not sorry."

I pause in my eating.

"For what?" I ask, sounding very agitated.

"I'm not sorry for being selfish. I wanted him to myself."

"Vegeta?" I ask incredulous.

He nods with closed eyes.

"So? Are you mad?" he asks. There is no regret, sadness, or anger in his voice. He's just neutral.

"No." I answer. Because I'm not. He can tell I'm upset though.

"But you're sad."

I look towards the floor.

He sighs.

"I didn't mean to make you sad."

He means it, but there's still no regret in his voice. Do I want there to be?

There is silence which seems to last forever. We don't know what to say.

"I think I should see Gohan." I suddenly say.

He nods in understanding. But, I think he thinks I'm seeing my brother because I want out. Out of this arrangement. Out of his sight.

"It's not like that." I add.

"What isn't?" he looks up, meeting my gaze again.

"I don't blame you. I've just been thinking…maybe I was wrong." I look away, slightly embarrassed to admit my mistake.

"About?"

"About Gohan."

I hear him nod.

"I should talk to him." I look back at him. He's nodding absentmindedly. I'm wondering if he heard me.

"Trunks?" at my words he looks up, "Are you listening?"

"Yeah." He says.

Good. He does care.

"Well, I should go to bed." He says and walks for the door. "Don't leave before I wake up, OK?"

I smile and nod.

He closes the door behind him and I turn off the light.

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><p>"I'm sorry for being a dick last night." He says as I'm chewing on my toast in the Capsule Corp. kitchen.<p>

"You weren't being a dick." I mumble, not really believing it myself.

"Yeah I was." He sighs, obviously feeling bad. "I didn't mean to be so rude."

"It's alright." I say as I acknowledge the apology. This is as good as it gets, I realize. He isn't going to take back what he said yesterday so I might as well receive these words as best I can.

"Hey, I should get going, I don't wanna be late." I say as I reach for the door.

"Hey, wait!" he yells as he stands up, "Do you want me to come?" he asks sincerely. He really wants to help.

I consider it for a moment, pursing my lips in the process, "Hmm, I would say yes, but I think I should maybe do this alone." And with that I leave.

I actually wanted him to come. To help me. to phrase all my words for me, like he does in school, when he gets me out of trouble. I'm not good with words like he is. But, I had to do this. Trunks had nothing to do with this, after all.

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><p>I flew slowly and hesitantly towards the apartment in the city I knew he lived at. I'd never been there, but I'd felt his ki there often enough so I knew I was at the right place. I rang the doorbell once, twice, three times. No one answered. I rang it again.<p>

The door creaked open.

"Oh, Goten!" she squeaked. "Fancy seeing you here!"

Her voice was as annoying as a whistling tea kettle, the pitch irritating my fragile Saiyan eardrums, almost causing me to bolt out of there and never come back. Gladly leaving my brother be to avoid this annoyance.

"Uh…is Gohan here…I kinda need to talk to him." I try to sound shy and cute, but it comes out awkward, because this situation is honestly awkward.

She scratches her head, then replies, "Well, I haven't seen him. Maybe he's at Capsule Corp."

What?

"I just came from there. Why would he be at Capsule Corp?" I asked dubiously. Never trust a woman with a voice _that_ annoying.

She seemed to stiffen for a second, intimidated by my harshness of voice, then, "Oh. I thought you were home with Chi-chi. Never mind then." She smiled, she waved, then she closed the door.

Women.

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><p>I was pretty glad the wench hadn't invited me in. Videl. What a joke. A joke of a wife and a joke of a fighter. That's what Trunks would say. In fact, I'm pretty sure he had said so once. I laughed. Trunks humor was so dry, like Vegeta's.<p>

I didn't want to go home just yet. I didn't want to see Mom, or Dad for that matter. Wherever he was. I sure hadn't seen him for a while. Maybe he'd died again. Who knows. But, I decided to check for Gohan's ki. I figured that would be the best way to track him down. I found it…at Capsule Corp. What the fuck?

I shrugged it off and took off for my "second home".

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><p>When I arrived I saw him. He was talking to Vegeta. The latter was nodding solemnly as my brother talked to him about something that seemed to be of absolutely no interest to the prince, but who tried to pay attention nonetheless. I decided that Vegeta probably needed a break from whatever boring school related nonsense Gohan, no doubt, was talking about.<p>

"Gohan." I said in as innocent a voice I could muster, only to have it come out sounding completely arrogant. Too much time around Trunks, I figured.

But, Gohan didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to cheer up and beam as soon as he noticed me. Vegeta just scoffed.

"Gohan, I've been looking for you." I said as he just stood grinning at me like a fool. I felt exposed as he just continued smiling at me. It reminded me of clowns and I hate clowns. "Will you stop staring at me like that, dammit!" I yelled as I clenched my fists at my sides.

His face dropped the grin, but then I felt guilty. He probably didn't mean to look like a scary pedophile, but what could I do.

"Yeah," he scratched his head sheepishly, "Let's go somewhere private."

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><p><em>This chapter had so many spelling mistakes XD And yes, we see a new side to Goten with his contempt for Videl.<em>

_Please review._


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter is kind of boring, I think. But uh...it's necessary :)

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ._

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><p><strong>Coincidence<strong>

**Chapter 6**

He dragged me to a lonesome part of the forest close to Trunks' house. The thick leaves seemed to block out most of the sun, giving the impression that it was much later than it was.

He went over to a rock a few feet ahead and sat down, leaning against it. The few sunrays streaming in from between the leaves illuminated his face, making him seem angelic with the peaceful glow that appeared like an aura around him. He looked up at me, observing me with a small smile on his lips as he noticed I wasn't moving. He tilted his head to the side; a silent question.

"Uh…sorry." I stutter. I'm nervous. Can he tell?

"Sit down." He whispers, and gestures with his hand to show me he wants me to sit next to him.

I disobey him and sit in front of him instead.

"I went to your apartment." I say suddenly, the silence too awkward for my liking.

"Oh?" he says, raising his eyebrows, attention all on me.

"You weren't there." I go on, probably revealing too much disdain than intended, but at least there is no awkward silence anymore.

"Why would you go there?" he asks tentatively.

He leans forward just a bit, prepared to engage in this conversation and alerting me to the fact that we _will_ finish this talk now.

"I thought you would be at your apartment." I shrug.

He nods.

"And I thought you'd be at Capsule Corp." he smiles. "Guess we really are brothers, huh?" he chuckles.

I avert my gaze. It's not that funny, but I know he's not amused. He's uncomfortable as hell and I can tell.

"I wanna say I'm sorry." I say abruptly.

He quirks an eyebrow, confusion written all over his face.

"Yeah." I continue, "I'm sorry for blaming you."

He pouts, "You were blaming me? I didn't know that."

I shrug, I don't know what else to say.

"So what were you blaming me for?"

I didn't expect that.

I sigh in an attempt to relieve my stress. It doesn't work. It never does.

"I was mad 'cause Mom never touched you." I say staring at a suddenly very interesting spot on the ground. I can't look at him. I'm so ashamed.

I can feel him nod gravely. I hope he doesn't hate me.

"I figured as much." He sighs.

I look up, astonished. I'm sure he can read my face too. Just like Trunks. Maybe even better.

"Yeah," he chuckles, "I acted kind of aggressively that day, didn't I?" he smiles in that way of his, trying to alleviate the gravity of the moment.

I try to smile back, but I'm so bad at acting. He can tell of course.

He crawls forward so he can see me better. I want to scoot back, but I know it'll only upset him. I guess we really need to have this talk now. When he's right in front of me, so close I can feel the heat of his breath, I speak.

"I thought she hit you." I start, my mouth moving on its own accord, "I thought she did it to you too."

I sigh. This is pathetic. I wish I could just out and say it like I did with Trunks yesterday. Why is this so hard?

"I understand." He nods. He's trying to be as patient as he can. I know he's in no hurry, but I feel as if he wants this to move along. He doesn't want a repeat of me blacking out.

"Well," I can't look at him so my fingers play with the dirt, "as you might have noticed already, she's hit me for a long time. It doesn't hurt or anything, but…" God, I don't know what to say. I can't tell him I enjoy it. He's not Trunks, he wouldn't understand.

"I know it doesn't hurt."

I look up at him at his words, his eyes meeting mine. Two sets of identical pairs of eyes. His gaze is so calming and I instantly forget my nervosity. There is only Gohan and me now. I can tell him. I don't have to be scared. I smile.

"Well, she's not very strong." I joke.

He smiles.

"So anyway," I continue, trying t get back to a more serious tone, "I came home that day…the day you found us…and uh…" God, I don't know where to begin.

"Start from the beginning." He says, as if reading my mind.

I chuckle, "OK. Umm, so I'd spent the night at Capsule Corp. because I'd been missing Trunks since he'd been sick all week," I start, and his eyes are focused intently on my face as I speak, "because I beat him up." I sigh. God, I still feel bad about that.

"Yeah, I heard about that." He chuckles.

Wait, don't laugh. It's not funny!

"Don't laugh!" I almost scream, "It's not funny, he was seriously hurt."

He tries to suppress his giggles, but he's still shaking with what I can only assume is amusement, and it's kind of annoying me. Can no one see a problem when there is one? First Vegeta and now Gohan? Seriously, Trunks was in bad shape.

"I'm sure he can take it." He says after his giggles have died down.

I glare at him, a warning. One that says 'don't mess with my best friend, or else'. But, he doesn't seem to notice.

"Well, anyway," I continue, "when I got home she was pissed because I hadn't been home in like a day or two, I can't really remember, it's kind of all a blur, but anyway, she hit me when I arrived and then she found a branch – "

"And I stopped her." He finishes for me.

"Yeah." I nod.

"So then what?"

"Well, you were there." I remind him with a snort.

He sighs in irritation, "I mean, what did you think when you saw me. I'm assuming…?"

"Yeah." I answer, "I didn't realize what was going on until she started crying and you hit her." I pause, again letting it sink in more for my benefit than for his, "The look on your face just…" I shake my head in disbelief, "I knew she'd never touched you."

"I was shocked." He nods absently.

"Yeah." I say. There really isn't much to add anyway. "And then I got mad. At you. Because you hit her."

"Why? Why did you hit me?" he pleads.

I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, "She cried for you. I guess I was jealous."

He nods, "Yeah, and she hit you when you tried to defend her."

"So, what now?" I ask, trying to figure something out. For once. Maybe Gohan already has this all figured out.

"Have you seen her?" he gets to the point.

"No."

He sighs, "Do you want to go back?"

"I don't know." I say, staring at the ground again, feeling the discomfort creep up again.

I can feel him nod.

"Have _you_?" I suddenly ask, curious.

"No." he says flatly, "I don't think I can ever look at her the same."

I'm astonished. I didn't know this had affected him so much.

"Because what she did?" I ask, somewhat incredulous.

"Of course." he replies, bewildered, "Why would anyone want to go back to that?"

"So you don't think I should go back?" I ask.

"I didn't say that." He looks guilty and looks away.

I smile. I know he's just being the caring, responsible big brother. It warms my heart.

"I know." I grin.

His eyes come out to meet mine and when they do, we burst out into laughter.

When we return to a somewhat normal state he speaks.

"When you figure out what you want to do, tell me, OK? I want to help." His voice is so grave, yet so full of kindness.

I don't know what he's offering, but I'm glad nonetheless. I don't want to be alone in this. I'm glad I have my big brother to lean on.

"I will." I smile.

* * *

><p>I return to Capsule Corp. straight afterwards. I don't want to go home to Mom. I know Gohan understands, and I got the feeling that he didn't want me to return home either. Either way I'm glad. I feel like a huge set of bricks has just removed itself from my aching ribs, allowing me to finally breathe. I feel content.<p>

Trunks is in school, I notice. Bulma is in her lab. I make sure to check for everyone's ki when I enter the dome, to make sure I don't run into anyone. I know it's been my motto lately, but I just want to be alone.

* * *

><p>Once inside my room, having cleverly avoiding running into anyone, except for a few robots who don't have ki signatures, I sit down on my bed, now wondering if I should have just gone to school. I'm bored. This sucks. There is nothing in this room to stimulate any part of me, mental or physical and I'm booooored.<p>

I decide I need to leave. Leave Capsule Corp. for now. Go visit old friends. See what it turns into.

I exit the dome, careful to close the door before I take off.

"What do you think you're doing?" the voice bellows behind me.

Shit, it's Vegeta. What does he want?

I turn around swiftly, plastering my trademark smile on my face, oozing enthusiasm. He doesn't buy it.

"What do you mean?" I ask with as much innocence as I can muster. God, this isn't easy. I'm losing my touch.

"Don't play dumb, boy." He says as he leans on the building, nonchalant in every way.

What is he talking about? Don't play dumb? Did I do something?

"I really don't know what you mean." My face falls; now I'm worried.

He scoffs, "No need to be so concerned. I won't tell anyone."

What? Tell anyone _what_?

"Tell who what?" I question with slight irritation.

He shrugs.

"It's none of my business." And then he walks away.

Huh? What?

"Hey!" I yell after him, starting to trot after him, "I said wait up!" I yell as I catch up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

He shrugs me off, apparently not pleased with the gesture. He growls.

I stare at him, he glares at me. Then he walks away.

I decide it's best to not push it. I'm really not in the mood today either, but I can't help but to think of what it is he means. Is it something to do with Gohan? I saw him talking to him earlier today, so it's very likely that that is the case. However, he could just think I'm getting myself into trouble one way or another…hell! I don't know! Vegeta is so slow to get to the point! Maybe I should take him up on that offer to spar with him. So I can kick his ass. Fucking elusive bastard.

"Hey, Vegeta." I call, now with a more cheerful tone.

He turns around, quirking an eyebrow, possible curious as to my drastic change in temper.

"Yes?" he asks, with just as much of his usual grouchy stubbornness.

I grin widely and catch up with him, then smirk.

"You said to come back when I'm ready. Well, I'm ready now." I say, exuding confidence.

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion at first, then realization crosses his tan features. He smirks.

We head for the Gravity Chamber.

* * *

><p>There is a loud banging coming from outside.<p>

We are in the Gravity Chamber, sweaty, bloody, and utterly exhausted from 5 hours of excruciating pain and, in Saiyan terms, cardio. We are panting harshly, and Vegeta hops on one leg to the control panel, and slams his fist down on the button that opens up the heavy door.

As Trunks comes into view, his seemingly bored face slowly turns into a wide grin as he takes in the sight of us. His crystal blue eyes travel from me to his father, back to me, and back again, until I decide to interrupt, what I take as liberally ogling either me or his father, the latter of which I'm quite anxious is not the case.

"We were sparring." I say, out of breath.

"I can see that." He grins, finally locking eyes with me. He stretches his arm out to me and says, "Come on, you've missed a lot of homework."

I take his hand and hop down to the soft grass, my legs still wobbly from the strenuous work out I just had.

He chuckles mischievously as he supports me with one of my arms going around his neck, while he clutches my hip tightly, leading me into Capsule Corp.

* * *

><p>He takes me straight to the showers.<p>

Vegeta being Vegeta, had decided from the get go that I would be a walking corpse by the time he was done with me, so now I'm unable to even stand by myself. I find myself wondering if I had the same effect on him.

The fight in itself was quite normal. We punched and we kicked and we blasted each other. Nothing out of the ordinary. At first I wanted to make him suffer for all my recent traumas, but when all that was out of my system, the fight was equally matched, and I landed just as strong attacks as he did. We were tied. He never said so himself, but I know he was proud. Or in awe. Whatever one should call it. I got the feeling he wanted to say it was like fighting my father, but I think even that would be too low a blow for him, so I let it slide. This time.

Inside the bathroom, which I soon discover is in fact Trunks' own bathroom, I sit down on the toilet seat and start peeling off the torn and bloody garments. It's quite painful to do so since my arm got dislocated at one point, but not so painful as to debilitate me. Once I have successfully peeled off all my clothing, including my sweat soaked boxers, I stand up, using the sink as support to lead me into the shower.

Upon glancing up, I notice Trunks is still in the bathroom. Well, why wouldn't he be? I never heard him get out. He's not paying attention to me, although all his senses are vigilant should I suddenly decide to fall on my ass.

"Hey, Trunks." I say from position of leaning over the sink, now smudged with blood from my dirty hands.

"Yeah?" he looks up, apparently as if I'd just snapped him out of some disturbing thought, and looks questioningly at me.

"Do you have any shower seat in there…?" I ask tentatively, not too keen on the idea of having to have Trunks _wash _me.

He smiles, "Yeah, Mom put one in last week, after I'd recovered from our spar."

I snort. It's kind of funny actually.

"Thanks." I mutter, then climb into the shower cautiously.

I close the door behind me and turn on the water. I step into the hot stream and close my eyes, enjoying the relaxing sensation.

Trunks stays inside the bathroom. He doesn't move. I know he won't move until I come out. He'll hand me the towel, help support me so I don't fall, make sure I'm thoroughly clean and dry, see to it that I haven't missed anything, and then he will lead me into his room, give me a fresh set of clothes, help me put them on, and then he will lay me on his bed, and we will talk. He's in the mood to talk. He's smiling, and he's excited about something, and even if he's concerned about my wellbeing, he still wants to talk about it. Like old times.

I manage to finish showering without killing myself, and as I step out, there is Trunks, with a towel in hand, holding it out for me, and rubbing me dry as he pulls it around me. He dries my hair, my shoulders, my ears, my back, my stomach, and then he turns me around. He looks into my eyes; that attentive, friendly gaze, and he hands me the towel so I can finish drying the rest. He smiles, and watches as I finish and wraps the towel around my waist.

He supports my arm on his shoulder as he leads me out of the steaming room and into the large expanse of his room. It's spacious and baby blue, just the same as it was when we were 8. Although, now it's less littered with toys and more often aired out, so it smells oddly refreshing, with a little bit of the cranberry that is Trunks.

"It smells nice." I murmur as he leads me to the bed and sits me down.

He chuckles, "Yeah. I guess."

He goes to his humongous walk-in closet, disappears for a few moments, and comes back with a light blue t-shirt, socks, boxers, and a pair of gray sweat pants with the Capsule Corp logo on them.

"This OK?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

I nod; we've done this so many times before. The sleepovers, the sparring sessions, the whenever-you-need-to-crash-just-come-over type thing. He's forever patient with me. Trunks.

I think I love you, Trunks.

"So," he begins as he pulls the thin material over my head, "how was your day?"

I shrug. "I talked to Gohan." I say as he continues to dress me as if I were a 5 year old.

"Yeah?" he hums from underneath me, slipping the socks around my feet.

"Yeah. Then I had a spar with Vegeta."

"Yeah, I figured." I feel him snickering. "So how was the talk with Gohan?"

I shrug, "It was alright, I guess." As an afterthought, I add, "There was no screaming."

He chuckles underneath me, "That's good."

I nod.

Then he stands up straight and motions for me to lie down.

"Sweatpants." He says.

I nod. It's funny in a way how he does this for me. As if I'm a child or a cripple, but it doesn't bother me. It's not embarrassing. It's a part of our relationship.

He slips them on neatly and I raise my hips so he can pull them up. Then he flops down next to me, head of his hands, elbows propped up on the soft cushion beneath him, as he stares into a seemingly unimportant spot on the wall.

"So, what's on your mind?" I ask him.

His preciously relaxed face explodes into a wide grin, mischievous and cunning, as if this is what he was aiming for all along.

He turns around and observes me briefly before he turns on his side, to face me.

"OK, so I know you don't like surprises…." I raise an eyebrow as he smiles sheepishly, "But, how would you feel if I got you something?" he asks, tilting his head in expectation.

"Huh?" I ask, ever the suspicious one at Trunks' mood swings.

"For your birthday!" he clasps his hands together in mild shock.

"Oh right." I say a bit absent-mindedly.

I'd totally forgotten. This week I turn 17.

Joy.

"So what do you say?" he asked, expectantly, and I swear, if he had a tail it would be wagging right now. Like a fucking puppy.

"Ugh." I say, "Fine." I know I sound really reluctant, but Trunks has a habit of completely ignoring things like that. I don't know if I should be grateful or not.

We lay there for a while, quiet, and I can see that he's deep in thought. I wonder what he's thinking about. His eyebrows are knitted tightly together, and his lips carry a misplaced frown. Misplaced for Trunks' face at least. I'm not going to disturb him; in fact, I'm going to take this time to get things into perspective.

For one, I had actually thought that entering the Gravity Chamber with Vegeta would bring some sexually repressed feelings to the surface, and that I would be rendered completely debilitated, but that never happened. The only time I actually looked at his body was when I was assessing which body part would suffer the biggest blow if I hit it in just the right angle. Perhaps it was all the pent up anger. Or the jealousy. But, I didn't feel nervous at all. I'm beginning to think that it was all just a really stupid crush, and I'm actually relieved that it's over. It has to be, right? Ugh, I don't think I care anymore. I'm glad to be away from home and I'm glad to not have to be worried over embarrassing myself further due to indescribable, hormonal nervosity. Yeah, that shit is for kids. I'm turning 17 so whatever.

Well, kid or no kid, Trunks is turning 18 next month. But, before that can happen, we need to battle my birthday. I don't really know why he does it, but every year it's the same. There's never a big birthday party, nothing fancy at all, but Trunks always sneaks in late at night, when the clock strikes midnight, and congratulates me on my birthday. Says he wants to be the first to do so. Every. Fucking. Year. I'm not annoyed or anything, I just don't know how he does it. He keeps me up all night though. I suppose that's a little tedious, but it's fun, nonetheless. I'm actually a bit bummed that it can't happen this year, seeing as I don't live at home anymore. I mean, what is he going to do? Break into my room here at Capsule Corp? Fat chance. He says he has a surprise. God, I hope it's nothing embarrassing.

* * *

><p>I think we've been laying here silent for hours. It doesn't feel that way, but the sun is setting. His eyes are closed and his chest is steadily heaving. I don't think he's asleep though. He smiles.<p>

"You can't forget my birthday, Goten." He turns to me, opens his eyes, and smirks, "I'll be an adult in ju~st a few weeks."

I snort, "Yeah, so?"

He smirks even wider, "Well, I've got quite the surprise for you then, so you'll have to out due me, OK?" he winks, "Can't have my present be the most extravagant on my special day, don't you agree?"

"I didn't know turning into an 'adult' meant turning into an arrogant, smug, manipulative asshole." I joke.

He laughs heartily, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. But, it's quite intimidating, isn't it?" he smiles, losing the smirk and superior air.

I chuckle, "I guess."

And that's the way it goes. Dinner comes soon, and then it's off to bed. Trunks doesn't come sneaking into my bed tonight, or the next night either for that matter. I don't know if I expect him to, but I manage to finally get some sleep. I no longer roam these empty hallways at night. That's an improvement, I think. I'm happy to say that I'm now living at Capsule Corp. I think I'm ready to call this my home now. Hell, it's always been more homely than my real home and I think I've spent more time here than anywhere else. But, I can't help but feel like a burden. What does Bulma think? I'm not worried at all about Vegeta, and even Bulma's parents don't mind, but Bulma…she's beyond me. And were I to speak with her, I don't think I could decipher all her different signs. Body language. One thing I've learned over the years is that women never speak their minds. At least not the pampered ones. Well, I suppose none of them do. I'm just making excuses for them. I don't think I'll ever understand, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to talk with her. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow I'll talk to her.

* * *

><p>Please review :)<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for the reviews so far :P

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ._

* * *

><p><strong>Coincidence<strong>

**Chapter 7**

Trunks had convinced me to come back to school. So here I am, in school, with absolutely no clue as to what the damn teacher is talking about. It's the most frustrating experience I've ever had to been put through. Well, I am put through it almost every day I am actually in school, but lately that has not been very often. So, to put it plainly, today _sucks_.

Trunks is with me and, for some unknown reason, our former 'friends' are avoiding us like the plague. Or perhaps it is we who are evading them. School has ceased to make sense or matter to me. So when the bell finally signals the end of the day, I cry out in joy.

"Finally!" I yell to no one in particular.

Trunks chuckles softly beside me.

"That bad, huh?" he says cheekily.

I hum an affirmative in response.

It's 3.30 pm and school is over. I don't even know what weekday it is. But, I suppose it doesn't matter. Mom won't be pestering me about doing the dishes on Fridays and Mondays anymore, so it's not like I have to worry about anything.

* * *

><p>We walk home for once, I don't know why we do it, but I have a feeling Trunks thinks I need it. Fresh air. Not like there's any of it in the city anyway. If there's anything I would miss from my life in the mountains, had I the ability to regret or desire something so futile, it would be the fresh air. But, whom am I kidding. Of course I regret things, and of course I desire things. Just a week ago I desired the prince. I am a true hypocrite.<p>

We don't say a word on our way home. There's no tension between us, no malice. Nothing has happened to warrant that, but I just like to acknowledge it because sometimes, and only sometimes, do I feel a little bit awkward, or maybe nervous. I look over at my friend and he is smiling blissfully to himself. He's in his own little world, and I can't help but envy him. Is it so wrong to want what he has? A perfect home, a stunning father, a…slightly less overbearing mother than my own….and…Well, he has a pretty little sister. Well, perhaps pretty isn't really the word. She is too reminiscent of her mother, and I find that Bulma can be quite scary at times, which reminds me…I need to speak with her.

When we're home Bulma is already in the kitchen. She is reading a womens' magazine and leisurely sipping a steaming cup of coffee. I approach her.

"Hey, Bulma. Can I talk to you about something…?" I ask tentatively.

She looks up at me with mild surprise.

"Sure, Goten. What's on your mind?" she asks with a gentle smile.

I turn around awkwardly and face Trunks.

"Hey, do you think you can wait for me in your room?" I ask with a pleading note.

He smiles warmly, and nods. Then he's left, taken my bag with him, and I'm alone with the blue haired monster that is somehow _always _described as an angel by all members of my family.

"So, what's bothering you?" she asks, as if she can read my mind.

"Umm…" I start as I pull out the chair next to her and take a seat. "I know how you keep saying…that me being here is fine…but..."

"But…?"

"Well, I don't know..." I grin sheepishly, "I can't help feeling – "

She smiles the same warm smile her son gave me moments ago, "Look, you don't have to feel like you're imposing. I think I know what you're trying to say."

I look up at her cautiously, averting all my previous attention on my fidgeting thumbs to her freakishly scary face, and notice that the smile looks surprisingly sincere.

"You do?" I ask shyly.

She nods knowingly.

"I don't mind. And neither does Vegeta."

I watch her apprehensively for a few more moments, then decide that this is probably the most honest response I will get from this woman, and abruptly stand up.

"Thanks, Bulma." I say and then proceed to Trunks' bedroom.

I faintly hear a 'You're welcome', but ignore it. Yeah, I don't really trust her.

* * *

><p>Trunks is on the floor, hunched over a book, wearing <em>glasses<em>.

"Uh…since when do you need glasses?" I ask dubiously.

"Oh, these?" he asks, taking them off and dangling them in front of him, "I was just seeing if they really work or not."

"Work?" I ask quizzically.

He nods enthusiastically, "Well, sorta like how too much of one thing can intensify it."

I furrow my eyebrows, "I thought too much of one thing was suppose to d_ecrease_ the function, Trunks."

He rolls his eyes at me, "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, that's true in itself, but I was just testing if rules are different for Saiyans."

"OK," I drawl, suspiciously, "But, why do you care? I mean, isn't your eyesight perfect?"

"Hmm." He hums in reply. "Yeah, but I was just wondering if it brings about any change since…" he stops himself.

"Since what?" I ask curiously, no longer dubious about his sanity.

"Oh?" he looks startled, "No, nothing. I was just thinking about something else."

I shrug. "OK. So what are you working on?"

"Hmm, this? Oh, the physics homework."

I nod, and he gets back to work. I don't have that class anyway so there's no need for me to disturb him further. The sooner he gets his work done, the sooner he can help me. I'm not really good at any of my subjects and I need all the help I can get. Besides, I'm failing. That's enough reason in itself.

I sit and watch as he skips through the brick thick textbook, wearing those ridiculous glasses, and occasionally noting down something. I suppose the frames wouldn't look so ridiculous if they weren't on him. Trunks' face shouldn't be marred by such ugliness as glasses. It's enough that Gohan looks like a total dork; I don't need another one.

"What are you laughing about?" he asks and looks up.

Apparently I'm laughing. Sounds about right; he looks ridiculous.

"Am I?"

He nods.

I shrug, "Well, you look fucking stupid, that's what."

He feigns hurt. I laugh. I was joking. OK, I wasn't, but I didn't mean any harm by it.

He laughs when he's done pretending, and then takes the silly things off. Then I'm crouching on the floor next to him, a book in front of us and he's explaining advance mathematical formulas to me, none of which I understand, but that's the way it is. He does my homework for me, most of the time.

Then soon enough, we're done, and it's time for dinner. Only we don't eat. Or rather, Trunks doesn't. He says he's meeting someone in town. Someone to discuss or explain certain aspects of becoming the heir to Capsule Corp. once he turns 18. I can't help the sudden rotating feeling in my stomach that tells me he doesn't need to meet someone in town for that. Not this late. But, it's not that late. I wouldn't go out this late, but it's Trunks. There's not much I can do anyway, so I wait. I stay in his room. There is no point going back to my own, because it's empty. Lonely. Boring. I don't really know what to do with myself when I'm there, so I decide not to venture in there at all. Unless I'm accompanied by him.

Trunks comes home at 3.57 am. I'm sure he notices me on his bed, but he doesn't say anything. I pretend to be asleep. I want to vomit.

* * *

><p>Next day, neither of us mention the events of last night. I try to adhere to the 'it's not my business' motto most of the time, but I kind of hoped he would break the news to me. Or mention it. Whatever. I can't bring it up, and if he doesn't want to tell me why the hell he came home so late, then I can't do anything about it. Except, perhaps sulk. I seem to be getting better at it.<p>

He has bags under his eyes. It's not often he looks like that, but now I see it makes him look about twenty years older. He's still pretty.

And again with the school. We're in class and I don't know what's being taught. I don't pay attention; I'm as useless at being a student as I am at…whatever qualifies as being cheery and non-affected. I just can't pull off deadpan anymore. What's happening to me?

We sprint home. I don't know if Trunks is planning on making this a frequent occurrence, but it sure takes its toll. I have absolutely no cardio to speak of; all of it is just muscle, muscle, muscle. And I'm of course talking about exercise. I'm not used to this much activity. Trunks is as full of energy as always.

At home I leave him be. I say I have work to do, but I don't really. I just need to be alone. I think he knows because I never have work to do. I hardly need to mention this, but homework isn't my style. Yeah, I sound like a spoiled rich kid. Except I'm not. Trunks is. Funny how life works out sometimes.

I spend hours in my room, not thinking and not moving. I think this is what it means to be traumatized. That or I'm just in a whole different realm of crazy self-pity. Poor little Goten. Nah, that can't be it.

Today, however, we eat dinner together. Me and Trunks. No Bulma or Vegeta. Probably out having sex or whatnot. Not like I care. She's still a bitch though.

Trunks doesn't say a word. I think he can sense my distress. I try to lighten the mood; talk to him.

"So how did the meeting go?" I ask

Shit. Probably shouldn't ask him about that. Don't want him noticing that this is the cause of my distress. Oh well. What's done is done.

"Huh?" his forehead creases in confusion.

"Last night," I swallow a piece of bread, "the meeting. How'd it go?" I try to keep casual.

"Oh," he brightens up as if realizing, "_that_." He pauses as if thinking it over, "It was alright, I guess. Not much happened."

Huh? What the hell?

"Oh." I really can't think of anything else to say. This has suddenly become awkward.

"So, what's up?" he changes the subject. Maybe he hopes I'll reveal the cause of my sullen mood.

"Nothing." Short and concise.

His eyes turn into slits, suspicious to the very core, then those lips tighten into a slight smirk.

"Oh _really_?" he mocks, or teases. I can't tell.

"Yeah." I seem to mumble. I avoid his gaze.

He nods in mock understanding and then he's behind me. Faster than a bullet and his hands are on my sides and they're…oh God! They're in my armpits!

He's tickling me!

"Trunks!" I shriek. "Stop! Stop! Oh, please, stop!"

My apparent shrieks of horror must come out as strangled laughter to him because he's not stopping. Oh God what should I do?

It is a well-known fact that the Son family is ticklish. However, only to the Son family and the odd acquaintance. Trunks is one of those odd acquaintances so he knows. I mean, how could he not. We basically live together.

"Please, Trunks." I plead. I'm trying to sound calm, but it really comes out as a pathetic whine. How embarrassing.

He laughs light-heartedly.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." He sing-songs.

Damn it, Trunks.

"OK, OK, OK!" I rush, "Just _stop_!"

He stops.

Thank Dende for that.

When I've calmed down sufficiently, I spot him. And, oh, how I wish I could just punch him.

His face is alight with a smug smirk. He looks exactly like Bulma and I want to fucking collide a good one on him. Fuck!

"So?" he cocks his head.

"So what?" I spit.

He pouts.

"That wasn't part of the deal, Goten."

Heh. Whatever.

Fuck you, Trunks.

"Fuck you!" I all but yell.

Yeah, I'm pissed. Fucker.

I march to my room and to my great delight, or surprise, or disappointment; I don't know anymore, he doesn't follow. Good, because I'd probably punch him if he did.

I don't know how long I stay in there, but it must be at least a few hours. I need to calm down. Both from anger and jealousy that he might be seeing someone. Oh, and also due to the tremendous betrayal I feel at him not telling me about this person. Because, surely, it has to be someone special if he stayed out until almost 4 am in the morning. There is no way that was a Capsule Corp. executive. I'm not that stupid.

My limbs eventually loosen and I feel sleep drifting in.

Then a door slams.

Trunks.

I stay up for another hour, but then sleep overcomes my will and I'm out.

I wake up to a low sound. I know it fairly well. It's the sound of a window opening. Trunks has returned.

I turn over and look at the clock. It reads 3.47 am.

I go back to sleep.

* * *

><p>When I wake up in the morning I decide to play along with whatever game Trunks has in store for me. And by that I mean if he's not going to tell me, I'm not going to ask. I'm not like a girl or Trunks; I don't get involved in other peoples' business. It's not my style. I suppose Trunks can't help it, being related to Bulma and all, but Gohan, my Dad, and myself, we don't get involved when people don't want us to. It's a Saiyan trait I think. Or not. I guess I'm going to have to revise some of my beliefs considering they always fail when Trunks comes into play. Whatever.<p>

At breakfast, he's practically glowing. Did he get laid last night?

If I weren't so detached at the moment I would probably freeze up and perhaps even pass out, but I don't. I shrug it off. It's none of my business. Not until Trunks makes it so.

I don't see Bulma today either, and no Vegeta is in sight. I have an inkling of a suspicion that this has to do with either my or Trunks' upcoming birthdays. It might be both.

I put on my best Son grin today and trail after Trunks like a lost puppy. It is what is usually expected of me, and even if Trunks finds it extremely out of character for my teenage self, I'm prepared to endure his critical eye. I need to convince him that I'm not suspicious of _him_. That is what is most important.

After a few classes, he seems to buy it. We talk more and the rest of the day is fairly pleasant. I'm actually starting to buy my act myself actually.

As school ends, I propose we do something.

"I'm sorry." He says sheepishly, almost with pity underlying his next words, "I have something to do."

I don't say anything as he prances away. I'm not even shocked, nor do I feel angry. I just roll my eyes at his retreating form. This is the true essence of Trunks. I guess it really is true that I'm at his every beck and call, and he's not at mine. I mean people say it, but I usually refuse to listen. What's it to them anyway? But, I suppose this gives validity to those remarks. Whatever, Trunks is Trunks and he will always be…Trunks.

And as high as the likelihood is that he's seeing this fabled 'lover', he's probably working on my 'surprise' birthday present. How do I know this? It's simple. Trunks is a genius and would never be so careless as to rush off to aforementioned 'lover' in broad daylight and in front of me. It's not his style as he's tried so desperately to conceal it from me.

I actually fly home today.

When I get home, no one is around. I suppose I'm right in guessing that they're fixing a surprise for me. I mean if it requires _all_ of the Z gang, I suppose…yeah. Must be it.

However, last night's events and the night before are still on my mind. Even if Trunks leaving at school might not be related to the coming home late and such, there is still that problem. I'm almost completely convinced at this point that it's a lover. What else could it be? I have a tendency to jump to conclusions, but all the evidence so far points to that. I mean, how else could he be _glowing_ in the morning when he'd probably only slept about 3 hours?

But I should keep an open mind until I find out for sure. There really is no point in getting worked up over nothing. Besides, I have some introspection to do and that will be challenging enough.

* * *

><p>Being alone in this big house is lonely, but I'm managing quite well. The only thing I've done so far though is think. I made myself a sandwich and actually ate it in my own room for once. It's been a while since I've done that. Actually, I haven't done that since I came here and stayed awake all night.<p>

Anyway, the issue that troubles me now is that…well, say Trunks actually has a lover. Say it's a person of indeterminable age and gender. Then what? What does it matter? I'm clearly not jealous of Trunks, that's for sure. I can tell that much. But the fact that Trunks wouldn't tell me…that is what's troubling me the most. We've always been so close, and even though lately we've kind of grown a part on some level, we live together now. So…doesn't that mean that we should be closer than ever? Maybe my logic is faulty.

I've been so absorbed with myself that I almost miss the sound, but it's definitely there. It's the same sound as the night before and it means that Trunks is home again. I don't even know what time it is since I kind of zoned out a bit, but when I look, I realize that it's 2 am. Damn. Trunks, what's happening with you?

I sigh before I turn off the light and try to fall asleep.

Except it doesn't come as easily tonight.

* * *

><p>When I wake up in the morning, I decide on a different approach. Being the childish person I am, it comes as no surprise that I choose to behave aloof with Trunks. It's that 'Fine. If you're not gonna tell me about it, then I'm not talking to you.' attitude. So when I see him in the kitchen, my answers and comments are curt at best.<p>

"Did you manage to get that work done yesterday?" he asks me as he chomps down on an apple.

I never once glance up at him, but I can feel him watching me. Scrutinizing almost. Waiting for one single sign of my thoughts.

"Yes." I answer. It takes me a while, but I answer.

"Hey, are you OK?" he asks a bit warily.

I suppose he's concerned.

I glance up, "Yeah, I'm fine."

His eyebrows are knitted together in confusion, his head cocked slightly to the side as if expecting an explanation.

Why am _I _the one feeling guilty here?

"Really." I try to smile, "I'm fine."

I don't think he believes me and I really don't want him to, but something in that expression makes me want to assure him. Convince him that I'm OK and that nothing is wrong; stop him from feeling any sadness whatsoever, because if that concern wasn't sadness then I don't know what it is.

Although I feel sympathy for my best friend throughout the course of the day, his insistence is really annoying. He won't stop with his "Are you OK?" or "Are you sure nothing's wrong?" etc, etc. How annoying. This perpetual nagging has got to stop.

"Please, Goten, tell me what's wrong?" he pleads with me on our walk home.

I sigh for probably the forty-fifth time that day and turn to him with the uttermost patience and speak.

"No, Trunks." I pause as if speaking to a child, "I'm fine. Trust me. Everything is fine."

I'm not very convincing and that's the reason he won't cut me a break, but it's so frustrating how he won't let it go. Just, please, Trunks. Can't you tell how I don't want to talk about it? I should have just pretended to not be in a bad mood this morning. I should've pretended to be your dog.

"Come oooon, Goten" he whines, "I _know _there's something you're not telling me."

Oh my _God_. If he doesn't shut the hell up, I might just punch him. Or actually blurt out what the hell is wrong.

"Please, Trunks." I plead with my most convincing puppy dog eyes.

But, of course, I'm not as convincing as he is, so he doesn't buy it.

"If you don't tell me, I'll never stop." He says matter-of-factly.

Damn you, Trunks.

I stop dead in my tracks and turn to face him, all the joviality lost from my face. Not that it had much of it to begin with, but with this insistence I'm royally annoyed. Yeah, pun fucking intended.

He stops too and when he sees my face, the playfulness completely dissipates. It's not funny anymore.

I stare at him for a full minute before I speak, and during that time the silence is intense. It's not even that much of a big deal, really. At least it shouldn't be. So why do I feel like I'm carrying the weight of a fucking spirit bomb on my shoulders? Tell me that, Trunks.

"Fine." I say very calmly with a pause to emphasize my next words, "I'll tell you if you so badly want to know."

I think the venom is obvious. I'm fuming and he must know, but he doesn't bat an eye. Or maybe he does. He looks a bit frightened to tell you the truth.

"Please, tell me the truth." I sigh and I'm looking and both feeling a little sad as I say this, "Please." I whisper that last word.

I barely notice it, but he nods. It's so small and conveys so much in just that one gesture. He knows I'm serious.

"At night," I sigh, debating how I should phrase this, "where do you go?"

The venom is all gone. I just want a straight answer. No tricks, no evasion; just the truth. Please, Trunks, give me the truth.

His eyes momentarily widen, then return to their normal relaxed state. Is it just me, or was that worry in his eyes?

"Please." I beg as he doesn't respond.

He nods and answers with a regretful smile, "I can't tell you that."

I immediately stiffen up. I back away, the complete rejection so evident by now that I don't even know what to say. How can I ever look at my friend the same?

It might seem rash, but…my best friend just lied to me. In his own way.

As I turn to go, his hand grasps my wrist and I vaguely register the pleading voice and the words…

"Please, Goten…"

I shake him off and storm off.

* * *

><p>Review please? :P<p>

Review please? :P


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z.

* * *

><p><strong>Coincidence<strong>

**Chapter 8**

I was so pissed. How dare he do this to me? He's my friend. My only fucking friend. He's supposed to be there for me. Why the fuck is this happening now? Why now? Of all the times, why now?

I furrowed my eyebrows until I could see nothing but my…eyebrows. Man, I'm not even making much sense anymore. My metaphors suck and it all just…sucks! Why is he doing this? He's fucking someone isn't he? I should've known. But…why is it any of my concern if he fucks some other person or not? It's not like that changes things between us…or does it?

I'm so fucking confused. Where do I go from here? I just want my friend back. And the worst part is that it's my fault. It's up to me to make things right. Why is that? Why is it always my responsibility? Has it always been this way?

No. It has always been Trunks, always. But we've been through this, Goten. You know this like a fucking mantra by now. Why the hell can't you be more manly about it? Be more honest, geez.

Or so my conscience tells me. How utterly pathetic of me to be in this state just because of a boy. And he's just a friend too. It's not like he's anything but.

Then why are there tears?

I can't stop them, oh God, I just fucking can't! I need you, Trunks! Where are you? Are you fucking someone now too? Where the hell are you when I need you, Trunks?

Let me just say one thing. One more thing. It has been 34 hours since I walked away from our friendship. It has been 34 hours since I last saw Trunks, and it has been 34 hours since Trunks went missing. To say I'm worried would be an understatement.

I say I won't rant, but what else is there to do? It's not just me. Bulma is frantic with worry. I've never seen her, or rather heard her, in this state since I refuse to come out of my room. She probably doesn't even know I'm here and I'm so grateful. Grateful for Vegeta not telling her that he can sense my ki, and fucking grateful that she hasn't demanded to know something from me.

The problem, as we see it, or rather I see it, is that Trunks is suppressing his ki. I can't fucking take it. Why the hell would he do something like this? I mean, I've heard stories of ki absorbing weapons and all that jazz, but what the hell would someone want with Trunks? Is this his new lover? Has his new lover betrayed him? I can't keep the worry out of my thoughts, out of my words. This is killing me. I don't know what to do anymore.

Trunks, if you can hear me, please come home.

* * *

><p>A week later, and nothing. Not a trace, not a sign, not a…nothing.<p>

I searched Trunks' room for a clue, anything that could tell me of his current whereabouts. What did I find? Oh, nothing.

As usual, Trunks room is free from specs or dirt, or any wrinkle in the fabric of his sheets. It's as if he was never there to begin with. What I have done?

Is this my fault? Is this really my fault? God, I feel so stupid, but I'm so angry! I just asked him where he went. If he would've told me, I'd know where to look for him. Is that it? Is the question I asked the reason he is no longer with us? No longer with us. God, it's as if he's passed away. Bulma is sick with grief. Fuck, even my father came over today. So he and Vegeta are looking for him. I feel so stupid. Perhaps I should've gone too? But I didn't. I'm a coward. I have my pride just like Trunks had his, and I'm ashamed.

* * *

><p>One week later, or two weeks after Trunks disappeared, there is a rasping on my window. It's so delicate I can barely make it out, even with my Saiyan hearing, but it's there.<p>

I grimace as I get up, so utterly confused as to what is causing this sound, in some way hoping that it'll be Trunks, but that's about as likely as…the Dragon Balls being evil. I snort. Whoever's behind that window is going to get it, and get it bad, because I was fucking sleeping, and for a recent insomniac, that's fucking special.

I slide the window open and look on with deep suspicion as a cloaked individual enters my room.

The hell…?

"Trunks…?" I try.

If this is indeed my best friend, and he's dressed like _that_ then there's a fucking problem.

The individual shakes his head, no.

I sigh. So it's going to be like that.

I stare on in disbelief as the cloaked person, or creature, or whatever it might be…sits down on my bed. I stare on in even more disbelief and confusion as the person waves me over.

This better not be a relative of that Frieza guy that Trunks and I have heard so many ridiculous stories about, because if it is, I will kick his ass, I'm just that pissed off.

I smirk the most evil thing I can imagine as I step closer, oozing malicious intent.

"I don't know who you are, " I start, "but I'm not fucking around."

This seems to get its attention. I'm not quite sure it's human yet, but it has pissed me off enough and I'm not scared. Nothing can scare me now. Well, yes. Trunks can, but he's not here now is he?

The cloak sighs visibly, obviously trying to make it known how utterly defeated it feels.

I keep my distance, hoping it will speak or…something. It's annoying and I'm at my limit.

The cloak is pulled back, and I stare wide-eyed at the revelation.

"What are you doing?" I ask, not at all as amused as he seems to be.

"I thought you were curious to know why I haven't been looking for him with the rest of them."

I snort.

"Gohan, get the fuck out if you're going to be a prick."

That shut him up. He stares down into his palms, palms still covered in blackness. I don't know why he felt the need to dress up like that, but…

"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm wearing this?" he asks his palms.

I sigh and take a seat next to him on the edge of my bed.

"Gohan," I sigh, "why are you wearing this?" I repeat tiredly.

He leans back on the bed and crosses his arms behind his head.

"Don't you ever wonder what would've happened if you were born just a little while after me?"

The question throws me off. He asked me to ask him a question and now he purposefully ignores it. Terrific.

"I'm serious, Goten."

I shake my head in disbelief.

"What, you want me to answer that?" I continue to glance at him incredulously, "Fine, I will. If I were born shortly after you, I wouldn't know Trunks like I do and that would be a damn shame."

I'm not in the mood for his brotherly talks right now. He means well, but he sure has a heck of a timing.

He smiles weakly, "I figured you'd say something like that." And then he stands up.

"It was nice seeing you, Goten. We don't do this often enough." And just like that he's out the window, before I even have a chance to retort, stop him, do anything that might make me more knowledgeable of the whole ordeal.

I am, to say the least, stumped.

I don't think about it because I need to sleep, but I make a note to tell it to someone. An adult. I need answers and I need them now.

* * *

><p>When I came down for breakfast the next morning, my father was sitting inhaling his meal while Vegeta looked on disgusted and Bulma was trying to carry out a conversation, something that neither of the Saiyans seemed interested in.<p>

I frowned at their joviality.

I stepped into the room and didn't go unnoticed. Vegeta glanced at me and motioned for my dad with a nod of his head in my direction. My father quit his eating and stared, and blinked.

My eyes furrowed deeper in confusion as I took in everything that this could mean. Was it strange for me to be here? Was I interrupting? Did my dad not know I was living here?

"Oh, son! Good morning!" he greeted after the profound blinking.

"Yeah." I eyed him suspiciously.

I went to the cabinet to get some cereal. I wasn't much of a morning person anyway, but I figured I'd need it. Trunks still hadn't come home and I still had to go to school. Even though I hate it.

They'd stopped talking once I came in. It wasn't exactly strange although it wasn't usual for my dad. But then again…Vegeta was the one he was conversing with so it shouldn't come as much of a surprise.

"Still no word from Trunks?" Bulma asked.

I didn't really think she was talking to me so I didn't reply.

Vegeta snorted. I suppose it was for me then.

"Uh...no." I answered absently. I wasn't really paying attention.

I grabbed a bowl and filled it with cereal and then poured a hefty amount of milk in, grabbed a spoon, then sat down at the table in between my dad and Bulma. I still had a suspicion Vegeta knew of my crush so I'd been avoiding him. Even if I hardly felt that way anymore, I was still nervous about him finding out.

I could feel them staring, or at least trying _not _to stare, but they did anyway. Especially Bulma and my dad; both of them having no discretion whatsoever, my dad even more so than Bulma.

I shrugged inwardly. I was going to confront them, but why now?

"Hey, Bulma." I started and she looked up upon her name. "Why isn't anyone looking for Trunks anymore?" I asked in my most innocent, 'chibi Goten' voice. I hadn't used it in a while, but they were like puddy in my hands after a few puppy dog eyes and that pitiful voice.

"Goten honey," she started. I smirked inwardly and listened as she tried her best to let me down easy, which is what I thought she was doing, "no one's stopped looking for Trunks, I promise you. It's just…well…" she trailed off, casting a glance at Vegeta, hoping for him to elaborate, I'm sure.

He snorted.

He stared in front of him at my father and spoke the next lines without sparing a glance to me at all.

"No one is looking for that boy. There is no need."

"No need?" I asked, perplexed. "What do you mean? Do you know where he is?" I was desperate and I let it show. Not the smartest move with Vegeta as he always seemed to scold my dad for it, but so be it. I needed to know where Trunks was.

He sighed, seeming troubled.

"If he wanted us to know, he would've told us. He's safe so there's no reason to look for him." Then he turned to me, "You've no idea, do you?"

I gulped. I could feel the sweat trickle down my neck, my hands shaking. Vegeta was scary, but I was terrified. Not of him, but of the implications of what he was saying.

"So you do know where he is?" I tried again, hopeful for at least some answers.

He scoffed.

"When you see him next, ask him. If he wants you to know, you'll know." And then he got up, "Come on, Kakarrot."

My father nodded and headed out after him. I was left alone with Bulma.

I turned pleading eyes her way, more worried than I'd been when I woke up. I was hoping my puppy dog eyes would work now. If not the 'chibi Goten' trick.

She smiled warmly at me.

"He's not in any danger, Goten." She tried to reassure me.

"But what about his birthday?" I yelled.

This wasn't the Trunks I know and it was freaking me the fuck out why these…these…people were pretending like it was!

She smiled weakly, "He might be gone a while…"

That was it. I stormed out of the house. I had to find my friend. If those jerks weren't going to make the effort, I was. I loved Trunks and he was NOT going to bail on his birthday when he took the liberty to intrude on mine. No way in hell!

* * *

><p>I banged on the door loudly, repeatedly, hoping they would fucking open the door already! I was in a hurry and it was killing me to have to wait.<p>

The door opened.

"Goten…?"

"Hi, Videl." I sighed. "Is Gohan home?"

The look she gave me told me he wasn't. I sighed. This was frustrating enough as it was, what was I supposed to do?

"OK, thank you. Umm…" I tried as a last resort, "You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

She sighed.

"I'm sorry. We're…" she paused, trying to find the right words, I guess, "not really…living together anymore."

My eyes widened. He'd told me, but…he wasn't living here? Oh damn, do I have to go home to get to see him now?

"OK. Sorry about…Um, anyway. Thanks…bye."

I'm the most awkward person, but I don't care at this point. I need to find my brother, or someone who will help me.

Then it hit me. Piccolo. I could go see Piccolo. Or Dende. They want to help, right?

I flew into the air as soon as I left Videl and Gohan's apartment building. They would have to help me. If they didn't, I don't know what I'd do.

I reached the Lookout easily enough and I soon found Mr. Popo. I haven't seen him in years so it was awkward, but he led me to Dende, who was just around the corner.

"Ah, Goten, what brings you up here?" he smiled warmly.

I fidgeted with my fingers, not really capable of hiding my feelings all too well anymore.

He nodded in understanding as if he already knew what was wrong.

"It's about Trunks, isn't it?" he tried tentatively.

I nodded sullenly.

He sighed, the smile slipping from his face.

"You'll have to talk to Piccolo." He motioned with his cane to his left, where I'd apparently missed the floating Namek.

"Thanks." I whispered absently and went closer to where Piccolo was.

"Piccolo." I stated in the most serious tone I could muster, which was easy given the circumstances.

He opened one eye and glanced down critically. Or at least so it seemed. I was never really chummy with Piccolo so I wouldn't know.

"Goten." He greeted.

I really wished he'd get down here so I could ask him what I'd come to ask.

"I need to know something."

He kept his eyes closed and it was really starting to bug me. I sighed in irritation and flew up to his level instead. I don't care much for this pride business that both Vegeta and he has, so if he considered me coming up to his level a defeat, I couldn't care less.

"Do you know where Gohan is?"

To this he opened his eyes. He stared at me so intently I figured he must've been expecting me to go on. Explain or something. Quiet wasn't really a Son family trait.

"So, do you know where he is? Or where I could get a hold of him?" I asked again, hopeful that he would finally answer me.

He eyed me critically, then spoke up.

"Have you tried his apartment?"

Now I was just annoyed. I let it show.

"Yes, I have been to his apartment." I glared at him, "Do you really think I'd come up here to see you if I knew where he was?"

He smirked.

"Fine."

He closed his eyes and focused, at least that's what I assumed he was doing. I felt like I'd waited five minutes before he finally opened his yes.

"So?" I asked.

He shook his head, no.

"What? What do you mean? Has he gone missing too?"

I was scared. While no one else seemed to be looking for Trunks, no one seemed to care that Gohan was missing either. Or at least Piccolo didn't seem too apprehensive. The others might not know he was missing.

"Look, kid." He sighed, "Gohan said he'd come see you. Has he done that?"

I squinted my eyes, trying to remember.

Yes, yes. Gohan had come see me. The night before in fact.

"He was wearing a cloak." I stated.

Piccolo smirked.

"Well, what did he say?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to focus and see if I could remember anything important.

"He asked me what would have happened if I were the same age as him, if we had been born closer together."

Piccolo snorted.

"That's it?"

"He wanted me to ask him why he wore a cloak, but when I asked, he wouldn't answer."

"Well, kid, I don't know why Gohan wore that cloak if I have to be honest, but…Trunks will come back, I'm sure of it. As for Gohan…" he just trailed off. I suppose he didn't want to think about what would happen if his first disciple really never came back.

"Thanks." I said before speeding back to the ground.

* * *

><p>Before I knew it, it was night and I had to go to school in the morning. I don't even know what day of the week it was, but I was tired. I was sad and I was tired.<p>

Was he at least going to be home for his birthday?

I was sad. I had to admit it. I was really, really sad. I couldn't understand it. No one had told me where Trunks was. As to where Gohan was…he could just be brooding like that one time when he and Videl had had a fight. I'd missed him terribly, but he hadn't even come back even for me. He was gone for a week. It sucked, but I know he wasn't feeling well, so I didn't pester him about it.

Now that I knew that he and Videl weren't having such a great time either, I figured it was the same. Plus, she looked so sad. I hope they figure it out. I've never really liked Videl, in fact, I thought she was a bitch, but she made Gohan happy for a while, and I know he belongs with her, so I never spoke ill about her to him.

I put him aside for now. Trunks required most of my attention.

It seemed to me as if Trunks was with someone. I had no other choice than to concede to the fact that he might not be in any danger. Not even Dende seemed worried. Perhaps about me, but…that didn't really matter. I was worried because Trunks wasn't with me.

Actually, for a while I'd figured that he was away planning our birthdays or something, but I don't know. Maybe he was.

It was just frustrating. It is frustrating. It's my fault he's gone, I know it. I just want him back. I just…there must be someone, but…why does that bother me so? I guess I used to feel that maybe I was enough for him, even if we weren't attracted to each other or that either of us was gay.

But why wasn't I enough? I mean…for me, he was always enough. He was the…we were supposed to be just us…it was just supposed to be us. Was I not enough? Does he need sex to feel special?

God, what am I saying? I'm his friend, not his lover. I shouldn't be jealous because he's not with me. I'm not jealous of him kissing some girl, or guy for that matter, though its highly unlikely that he's gay. I don't care. I just miss waking up next to him. I miss talking to him like we used to, before this messed up shit with my mom and…basically, just my mom.

I sighed as I lied back on my pillow. I skipped dinner today too, in favor of just cavorting with my thoughts.

I feel asleep shortly after, missing the warm body that used to drape itself around me.

* * *

><p>It was less than 3 days left until my birthday. Trunks hadn't returned for his birthday and I was starting to believe the rest of the Z gang in that he really didn't want to go home. That it was a choice. Oh, how I hated that word.<p>

And that's when it happened.

He came home.

He was all smiles. All I could do was stare in disbelief as he hugged Bulma, greeted Vegeta, trod up to his room, and…no. He came to my room after that.

It amazed me how he could just smile like that to me, as if he hadn't just been gone for two weeks. As if he hadn't just abandoned me to spend his birthday elsewhere. As if he hadn't –

"Goten!" he chirped, "I haven't seen you in ages!"

At least he wasn't in denial.

"Yeah, me too." I mumbled.

What was I supposed to say?

He frowned.

"You OK?" he asked, seriously confused.

I stared at him in disbelief, my mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

"How can you say that?" I blurted out.

"What do you mean?" and oh God, he was fucking serious with this charade.

"I'm _saying_, " I enunciated, "That you've been _gone_ for two weeks! That's what I'm saying!"

He put his hands up in defense.

"Hey, why are you so mad?" he was as calm as ever, just slightly perturbed at how utterly pissed I was.

"Why am I mad?" I was incredulous, "You disappear for your birthday, an event we spend together every year, and you come back for mine? How is that fair?" I'm not making any sense, I know. My thoughts are jumbled, and so are my words. Talk about word salad.

"I'm sorry…" he starts.

Yeah, me too. I wish you'd been here.

"Sorry doesn't even begin to explain it! Where were you?" I stop, catching myself, "Oh, that's right. That's the reason you disappeared wasn't it? How the fuck am I supposed to apologize if I can't even find you?" I was most definitely yelling at this point.

"I'm sorry…" he was just as quiet as when he'd come in. Not even raising his voice.

"Why, Trunks? Why the fuck? I can understand if you've got someone, I don't give a fuck, but come on! We always spend our birthdays together…and…do you know how worried I've been?" I burst into tears then. It was too much.

His eyes widened as he watched me break down.

"Oh, Goten…" he started, feeling pity for me, no doubt.

He rushed up to me and he embraced me. I grabbed a hold of his thin t-shirt and let it soak up my tears.

I could feel his heartbeat. God, I'd missed him so much.

"I've missed you so much." I choked out in between sobs, "Where were you?" It was a rhetorical question, but I knew he would answer…I hoped at least.

"Shh." He tried to soothe me, "For now, just let it out, OK?"

He didn't have to say that, I had no intention of stopping.

I cried and cried until there was nothing left. In the end, I was just hiccupping.

He smiled down at me.

"You're such a bastard, you know that?" I pouted.

He just smiled.

How does he make it all go away with just one smile? One show of his teeth? One widening of his lips? Why do I feel so warm inside when he smiles? How does he do this to me?

* * *

><p><em>OK, first of all, I have to say that I've made a HUGE blunder! I don't remember what chapter it was in, but I think it was chapter…6? Well, anyway, I had completely forgotten that Goten's birthday was before Trunks and also during the week he disappeared -_- I know. Bad Matt –scolds myself- Anyway, so I'm really sorry about that and even though I'm editing this now (and this was the last chapter I had to edit), I won't change it because that would mean changing a huge chunk of this chapter and it's just…well, first of all, I hate authors who go back and change things, that's why I'm just editing for spelling mistakes. Second of all, what's done is done. I'll have to work with it. So from now on…I'm just going to go with Goten having his birthday now that Trunks is back…which will be in 3 days in the story :P<em>

_OK so this A/N is huge, but anyway. Um…sorry for the lack of Trunks and Goten's OOCness. MY version of Goten anyway. I wrote this in 2 days and I rushed it. I just hate the beginning -_- Hmm…what else? Oh yeah, I'll be taking some extra time on the next chapter to make it really special because there'll (hopefully) be revelations and questions will be answered and all that good stuff :P_

_Lastly, I'm really sorry for the abrupt move from my old account to this one. Umm…to those of you who followed this on my old account, I say thank you. You guys are really special to me. And anyone who reviewed on the old account too, I'm so grateful for you guys. I almost gave up on this story, but now it's by far my favorite and all thanks to your support too :P. Thank you, thank you, thank you. _

_Please review, even if you've read this before. I'd like to see what you all think. Is this chapter as horrible as I think it is? _

_Matt_


	9. Chapter 9

_I've had this chapter in me a while, I've just not been in the mood to wrote it out for well...a year. Hopefully updates will be more frequent now. Also thanks for all the kind reviews :P_

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z.

**Coincidence**

**Chapter 9**

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling?" he was frowning.<p>

I just glared back.

"It's OK," he continued, "I'm back now."

"That's…not even the issue here."

He stood up, turned his back on me and walked up to the wall, bracing himself. Seemed he couldn't even look at me, or…look me in the eyes…it was hard to tell.

"Goten." His voice was serious.

It was silent for a while. I couldn't speak, couldn't, that tone was something else…I just had to wait, wait for him to speak.

"Trunks?"

It seemed I couldn't hold it in after all.

"Look." There was along pause, collecting of thoughts maybe, and then, "I know you have questions, OK, but it's not…not right now."

I stood up. "What do you mean…not right now?" I wasn't yelling, I wasn't even sounding annoyed, like…I probably should but…

"We're not 8 anymore, hell we're not even kids. We're…I'm taking over the company soon, like…this has to stop!"

I was silent.

"You and me…we can't be like we were. I've tried, I've TRIED, really tried, but you want so much, so, so much. I can't be there that much, I can't share ALL of me. Its like…it's not like that anymore. There isn't…fuck."

"Trunks." A warning. Me. I don't…

"Goten." A warning back, "You don't seem to quite get it."

"No, I don't, because you're being cryptic as fuck."

"Look, have you talked to anyone at all? My mom maybe? Your dad?"

"My dad?" I was I incredulous, "What the fuck does my dad have to do with any of this, or anything in general?"

He sighed.

"Tell me what the fuck is going on! Like…why is it so fucking HARD?"

"Look, just…talk to your dad ok? Or…no. Yes. Or…I dunno. Please just…calm down first."

He still hadn't turned around to face me and it was getting quite hard to even…comprehend anything. What was he THINKING? I couldn't tell.

"YOU'RE the one who needs to calm down."

He braced both hands against the wall this time.

"There's a LOT of things, Goten." Pause, "Things you might not know. No. Things I'm," snort ,"sure you don't know. And…I can't be the one who has to say everything do I? Like…is that fair?"

"Well, just spit it out, I'm all ears, and I'd REALLY like to know. I'd fucking…really, OK?"

He finally turned around to face me. It wasn't at all the face that had greeted me just mere…well, an hour ago, I suppose. He was stern, bleak even. And serious. And, well…grave.

"I don't even know if I want to tell you with how you've been acting."

"How I've been ACTING? Just…how have I been acting?" Incredulous once again. What was he getting at?

He just kept standing there, not looking right at me, but still…hinting at things I couldn't even BEGIN to figure out.

I spoke, "Are you seeing someone? Is that what this is about?"

He rubbed his nape, avoiding all eye contact.

"Are you?" I repeated.

He still wouldn't answer me.

"Jesus, Trunks, are you seeing someone or are you not?" I felt like I was screaming. Maybe I was, but…he wasn't TALKING, like…actually talking to me. He hadn't for so long.

"Yes."

I stared, kinda baffled. I just…I guess it seemed possible but…

"So…like…how is it?"

"Look, Goten, I know that's not what you wanna ask, and I'm not really in the mood for that either."

It WAS awkward, I guess.

"Is that what this is about then? Like…some…girl? Like…or…guy I guess, I dunno. I just figured…"

So this is why he's been sneaking off? This is why he hasn't talked to me at all? Like…or SHARED? I mean…I'm fine with whatever… I guess.

"Goten, it isn't like this is THE reason we've been growing apart –"

"Wait, what! Growing apart?

"Oh come on, its not like you haven't noticed!"

I was baffled, and I was gaping and I had no clue what to say.

"All I'm saying," pause, "Is that you can't just come here, to ME, and demand answers and then just…bring up these little…small things, I'm trying to TELL you what's going on and all you're doing is trying to pick a fight! Tell me that's fair."

Now it was my turn to sigh, "Look I'm just so tired of this, OK?" I said. "I just…want to know what's up, want things back to normal. I want YOU back and I just…I just want to help."

"Maybe this isn't the best time then. You look…tired. When's the last time you slept?"

I sat back down. He came over and joined me.

We sat silent for a while. I wasn't going to be getting any sleep in this state.

"I just…need to know a few things, I guess...Just so I don't go crazy or have weird dreams or…think of the worst."

"Yeah?" he'd calmed down significantly, I was glad.

"Are you in any kind of trouble?" I looked at him pleadingly, "Should I be worried?"

He smiled. Reassuringly I would have said, but I had spent so long just WORRYING it was hard to tell anymore what was real and really like…genuine.

"I know this isn't what all this is about, but…yeah, I'm glad you care and you've worried, even…if it's hurt you. But I'm ok. And in no danger. Saiyan remember?" he laughed.

I cracked a grin.

"Look….just go to bed, OK, it's late."

"Yeah…but we'll finish this tomorrow."

He nodded with a smile.

He stood up to leave.

"Wait," I started, he stopped," just…be here tomorrow. Don't…disappear."

"I wont." Still that smile.

"I want to trust you."

"And you will."

"Yeah. OK. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"I love you."

"Yeah, you too."

And he walked out that door.

Guess it was time to try and get some sleep.

* * *

><p>I did manage to get some sleep. I woke up hastily, realizing I'd actually fallen asleep. I'd promised myself I wouldn't. I was terrified he'd just leave to see that person again and be gone for…days, who knew?<p>

I rushed out of bed, thrust open the door and ran into his room.

He wasn't there.

I rushed out of HIS room , and sprinted for the kitchen.

"Bulma, have you seen Trunks?" I must have looked so awful, just woken up and in such desperate and exhausted shape, despite the sleep.

She smiled at me, and I almost felt at home for a second.

"Don't worry, dear, he's just outside."

I didn't care; I rushed to the door to see if it really was true. And…yeah. He was there.

Chopping wood.

"Trunks?" I yelled. He was a bit far from the front door, but he heard me anyway.

He waved and gestured that he'd be over shortly. I waited. I could keep an eye on him from here, even if I was pretty sure he wouldn't just barge off without me following and seeing where he was going. He wasn't that much faster. And he probably wouldn't risk it, I thought bitterly.

He rushed over, sweaty and dirty.

"Why were you chopping wood?"

He laughed, "Yeah, I know, kinda weird huh? Well… whatever." he smiled. "Let me just take a shower and we can catch up, OK?"

I hesitated, "No…I think it's better if we do this now."

He scrunched his eyebrows, "You sure? I mean….I smell pretty nasty." He sniffed an armpit.

I snorted, "Fine, shower then, but…hurry up."

"You got it."

I waited outside while he showered. Talking or even just chatting with Bulma nowadays felt awkward and strained. Maybe it was this whole secretive business thing, or what they'd talked about just the day before, or…was it the week before? I was having difficult remembering. Everything felt so long ago, probably due to the lack of sleep.

But there were secrets and even if he'd told me one of them…or what appeared to be one of them…I still felt like there was a huge chunk missing and I was the fool who couldn't take a hint. They made it seem so obvious, at least Bulma, And I was sick of her patronizing ways.

Maybe she was just gentle, or me, intolerant.

"OK! All done!" Trunks was out and ready in a flash, no doubt using his Saiyan gifts to speed his shower up and not leave me waiting.

I tried to smile, but it was hard to make it genuine.

"So, are the woods OK?" he asked tentatively, and maybe a little awkwardly. I sensed this would be deep and difficult so…

"Yeah. It's more private."

He smiled politely and we flew towards the woods.

Just mere minutes later we arrived in a desolate part of the forest. The sun was gleaming down on the clearing nearby, but where we were, it might've as well have been cloudy out, it was so shaded.

Trunks leaned against a boulder just a few feet away from me. It seemed eerie.

I leaned against the trunk of a tree just a bit closer to Trunks.

"So…" he began.

"Yep." I agreed awkwardly.

"Yeah." He looked away into the sky, perhaps pondering where to begin or waiting.

It was quiet for a long time before the birds chirping in the distance made him speak.

"It really isn't any of your business."

OK?

"This…THING. It shouldn't concern you, but…everyone else knows so…and I don't like …keeping secrets." He looked over at me pleadingly. "I'm so sorry Goten. Really."

I tried to smile, "It's…"

"Yeah. Just…I don't know what to say. It feels wrong doing this by myself. I mean…"

"Why is it so hard to bring up? Is it this…person you're…dating?"

He fiddled with his hands, looking down at a piece of dirt.

"It's complicated."

Yeah, it sure seemed that way.

"Look, it can't be that complicated. I'm your best friend, I'm not just gonna freak out."

He licked his lips.

"I love him." He looked emphatically into my eyes," I have…for SO long. Please, I…"

"Oh."

It WAS a guy. Guess he…

"So you're gay then?" I had to ask.

"I don't think people work like that…it's the person that counts right?" He looked so uncomfortable.

"I guess. Never really given it much thought," I shrugged.

"That's fine." He half smiled.

"Is this…the big secret then?" I wasn't able to piece anything together, why everyone was being so secretive.

He sighed and looked away into the distance again. It took several moments until he returned his gaze to me.

"Part of it, I guess."

"OK?"

"It WAS a secret." He bit his lip.

"How come?"

He looked away AGAIN.

"OK you don't have to answer if its too hard or…difficult for you, I dunno, just talk to me. Tell me anything. Just anything…I just wanna..."

"Yeah." He still wasn't facing me, but it was start.

"So?"

"Well," sigh, "he fell for me first, and we couldn't exactly tell anyone, not even you or even his parents, I mean it was completely unthinkable, or any of his friends! I mean…or his girl. Like…you have no idea the trouble… He was in the closet, and…yeah."

"Is he out now then? Is that why it's not a secret anymore?"

He shrugged, "Sorta."

I nodded, trying to piece the pieces together. It didn't seem like such a secret, or…as big as everyone was making it. Why was it such a secret?

"Who is he?"

Trunks flinched.

"Do I know him? Or does your mom know him?"

Silence.

"Yeah. He would have been ruined had this got out."

"Jeez, Trunks, it's not like this area is THAT homophobic."

He shot me a nasty glare.

"Alright." I bit my lip, "And you can't tell me who he is?"

He was quiet for a long time, it seemed to me, must be all the anticipation I guess.

"I dunno. I'll have to ask him." He looked away, "I have him to think about too now." He looked down.

"Yeah."

He kicked some dirt, "So…anything else?" he finally looked up at me. Eager to be done I suppose.

"I…guess?" I had SO many questions but I just COULDN'T. He just looked too pitiful.

"OK, I'm… gonna…go."

"Yeah…"

And he flew off, leaving me to stare off and wonder. Wonder so fucking bad. Who was he. Who the fuck is this guy that Trunks can't even tell ME, his best friend, or I dunno if I'm even that anymore, we're worlds apart now, it seems. But who is this guy to tell Trunks or get him to lie for him? It's just…so much to put on him…imagine…But…who fucking is this guy. I am not even jealous, just….so frustrated and worried…for Trunks. Is this…situation even dangerous for him? Was I right in thinking he was in danger?

I couldn't decide all that, I had to figure SOMETHING out, but now wasn't the time. I had to go home, to Trunks…or I mean, Capsule Corps, maybe I could avoid Bulma if I was clever enough. Yeah. I'd do that. Home it was, to spend the rest of the day thinking and planning…for the worst.

* * *

><p>I'd been thinking all day. Nothing so far. Everything seemed so farfetched and hard and…way too brainy for me. More Trunks' kinda thing. I wasn't good with scheming, although, I knew that something needed to be done if I was gonna be able to rest easy at least ONCE…it'd been so long since I was actually…relatively happy…or maybe happy wasn't the word. But…certainly not in this constant state of anxiety. It wasn't befitting.<p>

There was a small chance, however, that since I stayed at Capsule Corps, where Trunks had to return to somehow, I might be able to listen in on something or…maybe even lure some info out of Bulma…or…no Bulma was so, so intelligent, she could see through me in a second if she wanted to. But she was just…very…into her work, so maybe she wouldn't be able to tell. Maybe if I got involved there? But her work was so incredibly boring and I haven't even been able to stand chitchatting with her because of all this…well this awkwardness that maybe arose from the distrust? I dunno. She started acting weird first so maybe it's no surprise.

I was done dwelling in any case. It wasn't really helping at all. I had to go talk to someone at least.

* * *

><p>"Hey, dad." I saw him sitting on a log in the woods, a rare sight nowadays.<p>

"Hey, son, what's up?" he said cheerfully, as was his wont.

I took a seat next to him on a different log, half facing him.

"Trunks told me to talk to you…about…well…"

He blinked, a bit baffled one could say.

"About what?" clueless as ever.

"Well, Trunks told me about his boyfriend. So he wanted me to talk to you a bit, I guess?"

"Uh…what…me? Don't you think….he should…?"

"Well. He did tell me to talk to you…so…" I paused and looked away sheepishly, "But if you don't want to, I could…well…"

"Ah…" He rubbed his nape, "Well, I suppose I could…"

"Great!"

Dad stared at me for a bit actually. I'm not sure he was quite so sure of...what to share, really. Everyone seemed so uncomfortable around this subject matter.

"Well, son, the thing is…Trunks is…well, he's growing up, you see!"

"Dad."

"And uh…" he continued as if not being interrupted, "well, when you grow up you get certain needs.." he played with his lip, looking at the ground, possibly lost in his little world, although part of him was still there, talking.

"Dad."

"It happens when you turn 18, you kind of…well…I wouldn't really know." He ended with, looking more confused than I was looking embarrassed. "I'm not really good with this human stuff."

"Yeah. Thanks, though, dad. You helped…a little. I think."

"Really?" he was so happy go lucky.

"Yeah." It wasn't true, but let the man think it.

"While you're here, Goten, wanna go fishing?" he grinned big as usual, but I really didn't have it in me to humor him.

"Sorry, dad, I have some stuff I need to do, maybe next time?" Dad looked crestfallen, but I really meant that I wanted to go fishing next time; it might actually be fun.

"Oh, ok."

"Well, see ya! Catch some nice fish for mom." I tried. It might work. It was hard to tell if mom even made him happy nowadays, but being in nature certainly did anyway so even if I left, it wouldn't be too much of a loss for him.

I flew off into the sky and decided to head back home and maybe think some more. There wasn't really anything I could do if dad didn't have the answers. Trunks had suggested talking to Bulma too but I wasn't really up for that. At all. I'd already tried Piccolo's last time, when Trunks went missing but that didn't seem to be of much help, perhaps if I got Gohan to talk to him, but…maybe another time. I felt like being alone anyway. I was way too tired. For some reason, social interaction exhausted me. Which was strange considering I grew up to be such a social creature, with my dad being who he was.

I could try talking to Vegeta when I got back. Hadn't really talked much since…well, it had been a while, and the thought of talking to Vegeta didn't make me nearly as uncomfortable as talking to Bulma did. It could be worth a shot.

I headed home.

* * *

><p><em>Please review! And maybe give a guess as to what happens next? It's always good to hear your thoughts :P<em>


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